Hidden Lioness
by MusikLuver
Summary: COMPLETEDThe sequel to Hidden Dragon but its not required. Five years later, and it hasn't gotten better. Hermione has a secret, Draco is forced into living with someone he doesn't like, and there's a new woman. The question is who is she? DHr
1. Prologue: Catching Up

**_Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco.  She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust._**

**_Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him.  He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart._**

**_As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life.  A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember._**

**Last time:**

_Hermione stood in the Great Hall, where the party was being held, clutching her drink tightly._

_A few acquaintances clapped her on the back, babbling on how great it was to be able to know her, and signed her yearbook with fake things like 'Keep in touch'._

_Harry and Ron had been the first to sign it, and they were the only ones she thought she'd still talk to.  Kyle Thompson aside._

_She threw away her cup, tying her hardest to be anti-social.  But people kept coming up to her, taking the yearbook, and signing it.  Asking her to sign theirs, offering congratulations, or hugging her like they were upset._

_Hermione felt eyes on her back, and felt the urge to just cry.  It was Malfoy again!_

_Sure enough, when she turned around, two silver eyes were focused on her._

Why in Merlin's name is he _still_ staring at me?! _she thought, upset._  _He_ hurt _me_, not the other way around!

_Draco nodded briefly to her, and murmured something to the person he was with._

_Hermione wanted to scream in frustration when he began his way towards her._

_"Yearbook," he demanded, holding out his hand._

_"No," she replied stubbornly, hugging it to her chest.  "Sod off."_

_Draco clenched his jaw, and muttered a spell, causing her book to fly into his hands._

_When he was done signing it, Hermione immediately read it.  And it confused her even more._

_~*~_

Hermione,

We haven't had the best seven years by a long shot.  But this year wasn't so bad, was it?  Recent events aside, of course.

I really must thank you for a great night.  Really, you come in the top five.

I'll also bet you're freaking out right now, thinking 'Oh my Gods, what if people read this?'  Consider this my Graduation gift to you.  My signature's protected by a spell so that only you can read it (try as you might to make it go away), and no one can write over it.

Yeah, that's right, I go to the Library and read, too.  But I think we've covered the fact that you don't know the real me.  Which, darling, is why you'll never understand any of my actions.

It's ended for good…Hope you're truly happy.

Your dirty secret,

D.M.__

Hidden** Lioness**

**Prologue: Catching Up**

Twenty three-year-old Draco Malfoy looked around his manor, scowling.  It was so tidy!  _Too_ tidy for his liking.

He threw some trash on the floor, and shooting dust into the air with his wand.  Finally, he was satisfied.

It was one of those rare moods for Draco, where he was never happy.  Surveying the room once more, he whistled, waiting impatiently for a house-elf.

One came skidding onto the semi-shiny floor, looking in dismay around the room.  "Master Malfoy, sir, we's very sorry for it being dirty.  Libby clean it up now, sir!" she squeaked in fear.

"No, don't.  Just the trash.  The dust must remain," Draco ordered sternly.

He walked out, not caring to observe the process.  He wandered the endless halls aimlessly, looking for something to do.

"Draco," a voice said coldly.

He grit his teeth, but turned to face his father.  "Yes, sir?"

Lucius eyed his son disdainfully, before speaking.  His voice was one to demand attention.  "There will be a Death Eater party tomorrow night.  Do see that you attend it, and not cause a scene, hmm?"

Bowing his head, Draco nodded, mumbling, "Of course, father."

"Speak up, boy!"

"OF COURSE, FATHER!" he yelled, close to snapping.

"Don't get smart with me, young man," Lucius growled, flexing his grip on his cane.  "It's never wise to test me."

"Yes, sir."

Draco turned on his heel, preparing to depart.  He suddenly felt something holding him back.

Turning back to his father, Draco sneered.  "Let me go, father."

Lucius' cane was in the hood of Draco's robe, keeping him near.  "Did I say you could go?" he asked stiffly.

Draco bit his tongue, and merely shook his head, not trusting his voice.

"_Now you may go."_

He sighed with relief, and walked at a brisk pace away from his demanding father.

You'd think, after the crushing defeat of Voldemort, that Death Eaters wouldn't feel the need to associate.  But then, you'd be wrong, wouldn't you?

They met in secret, having parties in alternating manors.  At least Draco wouldn't be forced to get that idiotic mark burned into his arm.  He wasn't one to be a silent, loyal follower.

Lucius had the power only because he knew his son's weaknesses.  Which, Draco figured, Voldemort could probably just as easily discover—if he were still alive.

Draco ran a hand through his long platinum blonde hair, his silver eyes boring into a wall.  Back in the school days, he had so much power.  Both sexually and intellectually.

Then again, back in the school days (more specifically, Seventh Year), Draco had even more weaknesses.  _Human weaknesses by the names of Narcissa Malfoy and Hermione Granger._

Narcissa had been finally put to peace, in a painless way right after he graduated.  St. Mungo's said it was in her sleep, but Draco still had his suspicions of his father ordering some inane, crazy pill to kill her.  At least there was no blood.

And Hermione…she was a different story, one he didn't care to touch upon.  What she thought of him to this very day must be terrible.  Their 'relationship' ended on harsh terms, and they hadn't spoken civilly since then.

_I suppose Potty and Weasel were glad that they had the old Granger back.  I'll bet they had a celebration, in honor of her disassociating with the likes of me, Draco thought bitterly._

Painfully, he imagined Hermione at this very moment, eyes big and glimmering.  She was laughing, holding the hand of some random wizard.

Not that he cared what happened to her.  Really.

Draco scolded himself for thinking about the meaningless mudblood, and turned his thoughts to people worthier of his thoughts.

Ever since graduation, Draco had perfected his cold, empty exterior.  Thanks to Granger, most likely, but she was off-limits ever since that day.  It was painstakingly early in the year, which didn't do wonders, needless to say, for their Head Boy and Girl projects where they had to work together.

~*~

Draco tied back his long blonde hair in a silk black ribbon, completing the mini-Lucius look.

He intended on going into Hogsmeade, and cutting it once and for all.  Time to look as good as he did in school.  Personally, Draco hated long hair, and didn't know what moment of insanity caused him to grow his silky hair.

Grabbing some Floo Powder, he threw it into the needless fire and roared, "HOGSMEADE!"

Trapped in swirling fireplaces, Draco watched his movements, careful not to fall out.  Suddenly, he stumbled gracefully out, landing on his feet; knees bent in the building lovingly referred to as 'The Train Station'.  The only way to Floo yourself into Hogsmeade.

Draco smirked, feeling more at ease with the swooning women, who eyed him lustfully.

He made a note to check one out, as it had been a while.

He dusted off his robe, eyeing the fireplace disdainfully.  He nodded to familiar faces, and winked at the witches giggling like little girls again.

Draco strode briskly out 'The Train Station', searching for the place to cut his hair.

He bumped into a seemingly familiar beautiful witch, and apologized swiftly.  "I'm sorry, miss.  Did I hurt you?"

The woman looked at him, disgusted and mad.  In an even voice, she managed, "No, Malfoy, you didn't.  See that it doesn't happen again."

Draco tilted his head, offended.  "Snippy little thing, aren't you?"

"Sod off, Draco.  I haven't time for your games."

Draco clenched his jaw, reminding himself that it wasn't gentlemanly to hit a lady.

He wasn't taken aback at all at her knowledge to his name, because he was widely known.  He'd have been hurt if she didn't.

"Have a nice day, then, ma'am," he said tersely.

"You too, I s'pose."

Draco watched her stalk off, and couldn't help but wonder what he had done to her—a witch he didn't recognize at all—to make her so upset.  He brushed off the sudden curiosity.  She was probably one of the many he had slept with, and ditched the next day, grateful only for the sex.

Draco opened the door to the hair cutters, and took his usual seat, picking up a wizard magazine, not surprised to see Potter grinning at him, posing with vapid witches.

His arms were slung around their waists, and he seemed happy.

But Draco knew it was killing Potty to have to touch anyone other than his wife.  Who, Draco personally thought must've lost all five of her senses to be with the Boy-Who-Refused-To-Die.

~*~

Draco shoved the satin sheets down roughly, sweat pouring down his face.  It was that damn nightmare again, waking him up from his nap.

It wasn't necessarily scary, but it certainly wasn't something a Malfoy should dream of.

Once again, innocent cinnamon eyes haunted his dreams, staring at him with a hurt expression from a beautiful face.  Big, watery tears filled the eyes, threatening to topple over and stream relentlessly down her face.  _Her face._

It was the morning after they shared a night she found special.  A night she never intended to happen.  A night where he had never experienced more joy.  A night they'd never forget.

But Draco screwed it up, tainting the memory.  Just like everything else in his life, it was tainted, and went bad.  By no fault of his own.  She could believe what it appeared to be, if it made her feel better.  But it wasn't his fault.  Never.

It had hurt Draco that she accused him with the things she did a week after it all went down.  He was so hurt, and angry, that he let her think that.  His only reaction was to walk away.

Problem was, it wasn't just a nightmare…it had been reality.

Draco slapped his own cheek forcefully.  It was in the past.  Done with.  Over—forever.  No use pining away at worthless things.

Let Hermione Granger have her moment.

~*~

Hermione huffed, flopping down on the couch in Harry's apartment.

"Rough day at the Ministry?" Ron asked sympathetically.  "I should know, today sucked for me, too."

Hermione briefly bit her lower lip, and nodded.  "Yeah…yeah, rough," she responded vaguely.  It wasn't exactly lying.  Not as though she included _where_ it was a rough day.

Harry plopped down next to her, looking around the room.  "I'm sick of green."

With a wave of his wand, the room was sky blue, considerably brighter.

"I liked green," she told him defensively.  "It's a pretty color!"

"No," Harry began, shooting her a pointed look; "it's too Slytherin-like."

She fell silent, looking down at her lap.  "Look, it was never like that.  I just—"

Ron cut her off, holding up his hand.  "Hermione, we've been over this.  It's ok, we understand.  Harry just likes to tease you, is all," he added, glaring at his friend.

Harry smiled sheepishly.  "It's a nasty habit.  Can't blame me!"

"Bugger, where's _Mrs. Potter_?" Ron teased, looking around dramatically.  "Not having an affair, is she?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed vehemently.  "She was at Hogsmeade earlier, getting a haircut.  Won't be back until later."

"Take your little prat of a son, too?" Ron asked.

"Well, yes.  He's at the Day Care there."

Hermione smiled.  "Don't listen to Ron, he's just jealous."

Ron crossed his arms huffily.  "Well, fine, then.  I'm _jealous now," he said sarcastically.  "Yes, because I'm a free wizard, handsome, rich, smart—"_

"Full of himself?" Hermione cut in, smirking.

His mouth flapped open and shut, having not one snappy comeback.  "Oh, I've earned the right to brag," he said finally, maliciously eyeing Harry, who was doubled over with silent laughter.

"How do you figure that?"

"I've been in the shadows of you two right up until Graduation!  I've earned my spot in the limelight!"

"Oh, of course.  How _silly of me," Hermione responded, in a demeaning manner._

"Oh, sod off, 'Mione.  No one asked you."

Harry finally straightened up, and grinned.  "So, Mr. Weasley, can we be counting on any additions to your family soon?"

Ron pretended to look thoughtful.  "Of course.  Fred's going to marry Angelina."

"Ah," Harry said.  "But I thought he fancied Alicia."

"No, that was George," Hermione corrected.  "Honestly, Harry.  You're very good at confusing them."

"Look, mate," he began, waving around his wand.  "None of those smart-arse insults in _my_ house."

"My, what a prat I've been.  Horrors," Hermione retaliated, looking mock horrified.

"Living with Malfoy was a bad thing for you.  Completely tainted you," Ron complained.

She sucked in a breath, and chewed on her nail.  "Don't feed me those B.S. lines, Ronald," she scolded.  "Malfoy didn't do anything to me."

Her heart pounded, and she bit her lip again.  That was quite possibly the biggest lie she told in her entire life.

Draco had played a big part in her life, and she knew it…She just kept it from Harry and Ron, was all.  Draco wouldn't be blabbing it to either of them anytime soon, so it would be ok.

Yes, there had been a few close calls.  They had almost stumbled onto her biggest secret without even trying.  From then on, Hermione was extra-careful.

Of course, Hermione knew that in six years, it would be inevitable that the two found out.  Seven, at most.  She knew it had to come out soon.  But she couldn't bear the thought of losing her friends again.

~*~

Hermione strode briskly down the street, pausing to wave at Harry and his wife when she left.

The outside thundered, and lightning briefly lit up the dark sky.

Harry and Ron had been so worried to let her walk home like this.  They had insisted on giving her a ride there.  But they simply couldn't…or they'd know.  They'd find out.

Hermione pulled her raincoat closer to her chest, and murmured a spell to repel the rain.  Still, she felt cold.

She sped up, nearing her house.  She walked up the steps to the small, modest manor.

It wasn't extravagant, like the Malfoy Manor.  It didn't even have a name.  Certainly, not the Granger Manor.  No, it was nowhere near that status.

Hermione cursed softly when the rain poured down forcefully, breaking through her spell.

She broke into a run, and panted breathlessly when she met with the mahogany door.  Hermione whispered the password-like spell, and stepped back, waiting for it to open.

She stepped inside, wringing her hair on the floor.  She looked up, smiling.  There was one of her pride and joys, Gretchen, her dog.  "Hewwo, Gwetchen, baby," Hermione cooed, in a baby-like way.

Stroking the small dog, she walked up the steps to her room.

Hermione grinned even wider at the sight before her.

**A/N:** There it is…the first part of the sequel.  I must say, I love the attention my old one got…hopefully this one will get more?  Lol, I know I'm greedy…

Well, this story isn't going to get quite up to 'R' standards, I'll admit.  I just put it up here first, just to check one last time.  This is last call for those of you who don't move around from 'R'.  If you would like to be on my mailing list, please leave your email, and a name you'd like to be known by.  If you have already done this, no worries, you'll be on it!  In fact, this chapter should be proof…

After this update, I'm changing the rating to PG-13, because I don't want to fool people.  Yeah, so please hurry.

I'd like to thank the people who have reviewed my past stories, I lurve you!  I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter to _Hidden Dragon_, because I worked hard on it.  I must've changed Draco's signature a thousand times, to get the tone right.  Some people thought that everything was okay between the two, and it really isn't.  I couldn't bare to have Draco be even more cruel in his siggie, so I tried to make it a little less mean.

I have to admit, I liked the part where he signs 'Your dirty secret', because if you'll recall, she accused him of letting her be his dirty secret…which is all true, lol.

So any and all questions you guys have WILL be answered in this sequel.  If you think there's a point I'm going to forget, then include it in your review…Here's what I have so far:

Hermione's secret, why Draco slept with Pansy not long after, who the mystery woman is (she'll be introduced next), WHY she is so hell-bent on Draco, how Hermione found out her secret, how they both really feel, why Kyle's so pivotal, how it turns out to be D/Hr, etc.

It won't seem Draco/Hermione at first, I know…but I promise, it is them more than you could ever suspect.  So, guesses welcome.  Remember, when 10 people (I changed it) figure out the plot secret.  To divulge more, the plot secret is why the mystery woman is so important to their relationship.  Bonus points to those of you who discover why I called this _Hidden Lioness_.  I'll admit, between two reviews of my last story, you people have it down.

Ok, I'll stop the torture now…you're done reading my insolent ramblings!  YAY!

[Submitted date not included, because it is Publish Date, and I have no idea when I'm going to submit it…]


	2. Secrets Revealed

**_Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco.  She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust._**

**_Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him.  He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart._**

**_As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life.  A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember._**

**Last time:**

_[Draco]_

_But Draco screwed it up, tainting the memory.  Just like everything else in his life, it was tainted, and went bad.  By no fault of his own.  She could believe what it appeared to be, if it made her feel better.  But it wasn't his fault.  Never._

_It had hurt Draco that she accused him with the things she did a week after it all went down.  He was so hurt, and angry, that he let her think that.  His only reaction was to walk away._

_Problem was, it wasn't just a nightmare…it had been reality._

_Draco slapped his own cheek forcefully.  It was in the past.  Done with.  Over—forever.  No use pining away at worthless things._

_Let Hermione Granger have her moment._

_[Hermione]_

_She broke into a run, and panted breathlessly when she met with the mahogany door.  Hermione whispered the password-like spell, and stepped back, waiting for it to open._

_She stepped inside, wringing her hair on the floor.  She looked up, smiling.  There was one of her pride and joys, Gretchen, her dog.  "Hewwo, Gwetchen, baby," Hermione cooed, in a baby-like way._

_Stroking the small dog, she walked up the steps to her room._

_Hermione grinned even wider at the sight before her._

**Chapter One: Secrets Revealed**

Draco fell into the luxurious satin chair, with the fireplace roaring before him.  He propped up his feet casually.

He pulled his silk black robe, tying it tightly.  Was everything he owned silk or satin?  Looking around, Draco concluded that this was correct.

_Nothing but the best for the Malfoys, he thought slightly sourly._

It was nearing nine, the time of the party.  It was still pouring outside, and Draco wished the party could be cancelled.

He wasn't anywhere near in the mood to party, on a night so dreary…much like the day that Hermione confronted him in Seventh Year.  After he had let her secret slip.

He imagined bitterly, her kissing that stupid git, Kyle Thompson.  Wearing his stupid ring.

Shaking his head, Draco steered his thoughts away from Hermione.  There was a party to attend tonight.  Many wizards and their friends would be apparating to his manor.  Witches would most likely be there, too.

He scowled; figuring Pansy would probably be in his house tonight.  After Hermione, Draco was forced back to Pansy…into her filthy, disgusting bed.

Needless to say, Pansy was ecstatic when he snuck into her room that night, and kissed her on the lips.  She had giggled endlessly when he held her hand, guiding her to his dorm, which she had seen only once.

Draco snarled, remembering the promise he made to her at the beginning of the year.  The one that had haunted him from the night he took Pansy back, to now.  The promise that went along the lines of 'The day I come crawling to your bed is the day I fall in love with the Mudblood'.

He sighed, remembering the details of the night as though it were yesterday.

Hermione had been great, truly.  Draco never meant that in a pig-like way.  He was utterly serious, and knew that it would help his case, and she'd take it offensively.

Draco bit his lip, remembering exactly what had caused him to betray her on the night of her life.

Always—_always—someone interrupted every single one of his decisions.  Someone he hated dearly._

Lucius.

"DRACO!" a voice boomed, causing a mirror to rattle.

Speak of the devil, there he was!

"Yes, father?" Draco called back, rising to his feet swiftly.  "Is it time already?  Has anyone arrived?" he asked, strolling towards where Lucius was.

Seeing Lucius, and the back of the person he was with, Draco fell silent.

"Yes, son, someone _has_ arrived.  What's your name, sweetheart?" Lucius asked in a fake sugary voice, very obviously sizing the woman up.  Draco knew his father had a new target to get into his bed.

The woman turned around, smiling forcefully.  It was the witch from Hogsmeade.  Picking her words carefully, she said in a dainty voice, "My name is Hope Woods."

Draco nodded, picking up her hand.  Smirking at his father, he lifted up her hand to his lips, and kissed it.  "Draco Malfoy, as I'm sure you already know."

The witch nodded.  She was very obviously faking the pleasant act.  "Of course.  Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," he replied.  "Er, if you don't mind me asking…who are you supposed to be here with?"

"Kyle Thompson," she answered swiftly, smiling kindly.  "I assume you know of him?  Judging, of course, only by the way you clench your jaw and fists," Hope added, eyeing his body with a smirk.

Draco nodded tersely.  "Yes.  I went to school with Thompson," he gritted out.

Fabulous.  He was going to spend the entire night knowing that Kyle Thompson would be in his house.  Bloody brilliant.

The one wizard who—as far as Draco knew, anyway—had come even remotely close to a meaningful relationship with Hermione.

Hope smiled again.  A smile that was quite suspicious to Draco, but he merely brushed it off.  He planned on making the best of little time he had with the beautiful mystery woman.

He led her away from Lucius, and turned to her in the empty room.  "You were at Hogsmeade today, weren't you?" Draco asked, crossing his arms.

"Mm, brighter than you seem," the witch quipped.  "Yes, I was."

Draco sneered, not quite enjoying her attitude towards him.  "What have you got against me, Hope?"

She shrugged.  "A lot of things that I'd rather not go into right now," Hope replied smugly, turning his smirk against him.  "After all, this _is going to be a party, is it not?"_

"Yes, it should be," Draco responded, turning to the bar.  "Would you care for a drink?" he asked, pouring himself some random wizard alcohol.

Hope shrugged.  "Why not?  I'll have the same as you," she added.  "What a lovely home…"

"What, Thompson doesn't have an enormous manor?" Draco scoffed, putting the cap on the bottle.  "How surprising."

"Of course he does," Hope snapped, looking irate.  "Look, just give me the bloody glass."

Although in normal cases, Hope's behavior would be off-putting, Draco had to admit there was some appeal to a woman with attitude.  He didn't tell her this, of course, and continued to pretend she annoyed him as well.

"So where is Thompson, anyway?  With a witch as pretty as you are, I'd think he'd be eager to be here on time.  Married?" Draco asked, eyeing her fingers carefully.

His suspicions were confirmed when he saw no telltale ring.  Unless, of course, she accidentally left it at her lovely home.

"Not quite," Hope answered, gripping her glass lightly.  "You do realize, of course, that his name is Kyle?"

He waved her off.  "Yeah, yeah.  He's Thompson, I'm Malfoy.  I'm surprised you didn't know that."

He leaned against the bar, raising the glass to his lips slowly.  He had one hand gripping the counter for balance, the holding the glass, obviously.

"Don't be full of yourself, Draco.  Kyle has better things to talk about than you," Hope snipped, smiling innocently.

"We'd hope, wouldn't we?" Draco retorted, unfazed.  "I would most certainly be a tad disturbed if that wasn't the case."

"Are you always this charming?" Hope asked, raising an eyebrow.

Detecting sarcasm, he scowled.  "No, I'm lowering my standards just for you.  Wouldn't want you falling in love with me when you're tied down to another wizard, after all," Draco added slyly.

"No, Merlin forbid," she murmured softly, finishing off her glass.  Rising, she placed down her drink.  "Kyle will be here any minute, I'm afraid.  I'd love to stay and chat…but we can't have _you falling in love with an unavailable witch, can we now?"_

_Touché, Draco thought, smiling inwardly.  He loved her attitude._

~*~

Hope Woods stood alone outside, wringing her hands nervously.

"Where in the bloody hell is he?" she whispered to the dark night sky.  Gazing up at the stars twinkling brilliantly in the sky, she added, "I'm dying here!"

Hope grinned when she felt arms wrap around her waist.  "Not now," she scolded.  "I know I told you to make this—"

But she cut herself off when she turned and saw a shock of platinum blonde hair.  "Draco!" she hissed.

Draco smiled alluringly.  "Expecting anyone else?"

She sighed, frustrated.  "Kyle should be here any second, I'd suspect!" she whispered loudly, panic creeping into her voice.

Mistake #1.  Never let a Malfoy know he's gotten to you.  Never give him that little inch of power.

Shouldn't she have learned that by now?

Hope scolded herself for letting herself do that.  "Sod off, I'm waiting for my date!"

Draco let go, holding his hands up in surrender.  "Whatever you want," he mumbled, turning to go back to his manor.

_Blast it all, he has__ to use that stupid puppy look, Hope thought, biting her lip.  Indecision had wrapped around her, engulfing her mind._

_No, don't call him back.  You need to talk to Kyle alone__, her mind reminded her.  __Get it together._

Hope stood rooted to the ground, stone-faced.

"Hey!…Er, Hope," a voice said haltingly from behind her.

She turned around, finally able to smile.  She threw her arms around Kyle, embracing him.  "_Finally_," she sighed, resting her head on his strong shoulder.

"Everything alright?" he asked, concerned.  "Did Malfoy do anything?  Did he figure—"

Hope held up her hand, causing Kyle to halt mid-sentence.  "No, thank Merlin, he hasn't figured anything out.  It's just…well…It's still painful," she finished, looking down at the manicured lawn.

Kyle patted her back.  "It'll be ok."

"Right."  Hope nodded, self-reassuringly, and looked up at Kyle.  "Now, remember…when we go into the party, we're a couple.  On the verge of marriage," she added, chewing on her lip.  "Yeah.  Deeply in love, nothing can separate us."

Kyle nodded, too.  "Got it.  Especially in front of Malfoy, right?" he asked, holding back disdain.

"Definitely.  Him, especially," Hope agreed fervently.

"I still have no idea why we're doing all of this for him…Hope."

"Because, Kyle, I want to show him I'm not missing anything," she explained again, picking at a nail.

He grabbed her hand to stop the action.  "But he doesn't know who you are.  And you _are_ missing stuff.  He's all you think about now, and you know it!" Kyle reminded her.

"Well…Bugger, just let me have my moment, Kyle!" Hope hissed, looking upset.

"Ok," Kyle relinquished.  "Fine, I'll still do it."

~*~

Draco sat broodingly on his favorite chair, refusing to socialize.  To hell with Lucius, and his family ideals.  To hell with them all.

He had just glanced at a calendar and had realized what tonight was.  It was the five-year anniversary of the night that had changed the entire course of his life.

Draco remembered with great detail how he had come around to leaving Hermione in the dust that night.

_~*~ Flashback ~*~_

_Draco was shaken awake by a harsh force._

_"Get the hell up," a malicious voice sneered, whacking his head._

_He sat up, undraping his arm tenderly from around Hermione.  Draco's eyes widened with terror and fear when he realized just who was jolting him awake._

_"Father," he acknowledged in a shaky voice._

_Lucius Malfoy tossed him his Slytherin robe, scowling.  "Put this on, and get the hell out of here.  Follow me, we must speak."_

_Draco slipped on the robe, and followed with quaking feet.  He was being led back to his room._

_Lucius said the password to Draco's room, but Draco didn't question how his father knew it._

_Lucius promptly slapped his cheek forcefully, shoving him down on the bed.  "Is this how you think a Malfoy goes about?" he hissed._

_Draco stared blankly, his cheek stinging.  "What are you talking about, sir?"_

_"The mudblood!" Lucius barked, slamming his fist down on the nightstand.  He watched triumphantly—like Draco had earlier in the year—when the picture of Draco and Narcissa went tumbling to the floor with a crash once more._

_Only this time, Narcissa was fearful, and clamped a hand over little photo Draco's mouth._

_"Sir, it was only…just a…" he trailed off, unable to find a good excuse.  "Just for pleasure, father," he finished lamely, wincing._

_"Yes, well, if you just wanted 'pleasure', Pansy Parkinson is more than fitting," Lucius growled, gripping Draco's wrist forcefully._

_"But, father, Pansy is nothing but a stupid sl—"_

_He was cut off before he could finish saying 'slut'._

_"Slytherin pureblood," Lucius finished, instead.  "A rather talented one, if the rumors I hear are true," he added, smirking._

Draco shuddered, not wanting to know what his father was thinking about Pansy.  Probably the same dirty things Draco had when he was younger.

_"Now," his father began harshly, "you will wake up this Parkinson girl, and you will apologize for leaving her.  Then, you will do to her what you did to that mudblood tonight, and you will enjoy__ it.  Forget about Granger, son.  She's nothing but trouble, and will only taint our name."_

_"Y-yes, father," Draco stuttered, clambering out of bed.  "Of course."_

_With that, he left, trembling in fear, to bring back Pansy._

_~*~ End Flashback ~*~_

Draco let a low guttural growl escape his throat.  He had been so weak then.  But no more.

~*~

Hermione plopped onto her bed, exhausted.  Then night had been long and trying for her.

Smiling, she turned to the right, tilting her head lovingly.

There was Carrie, her means for life.  Carrie, her first daughter.

Yes, that's right, daughter.  Hermione knew Harry and Ron would flip, if they knew she wasn't the innocent young witch they had thought she was.

Yes, it had been rather difficult to hide it, but thank Merlin for witchy products.

Hermione remembered the day she had found out she was carrying a child.  It was perhaps the scariest moment of her entire life.

She recalled her every thought, the expression poor Madam Pomphrey had made when she found out the news.

_~*~ Flashback ~*~_

_Hermione sat eagerly on the edge of the bed, waiting to find out what was wrong with her._

_She smiled, remembering the concern Harry and Ron had expressed when she showed symptoms of some sort of illness._

_"Madam Pomphrey?" she called to the mediwitch, anxiously awaiting the moment when she could get the medicine, and leave._

_"J-just a second," Madam Pomphrey yelled back, her voice faltering._

_About a minute later, she came bustling into Hermione's line of vision, a frown etched onto her face.  "Ahem, Miss Granger…" she began, twisting her hands._

_"Yes?"_

_"Er, have you…goodness, this seems like a mistake…Dearie, have you been sexually active?"_

_Hermione swallowed.  "Excuse me?"_

_"Hermione.  Have you been sexually involved?" Madam Pomphrey repeated, with a nervous chuckle._

_Hermione knew why there was disbelief in her voice.  The nurse thought there was no way innocent little Hermione would ever do something so rash without thinking it through._

Oh Gods,_ Hermione thought, a lump forming in her throat.  _This can't be happening.  We were…I made sure…Protection!  We used it!

"Y-yes, ma'am," Hermione stuttered, suddenly finding the floor to be the most fascinating thing in the world.

_"Oh Merlin, I don't believe it," the nurse murmured, looking with disappointment at Hermione._

_It killed her, that an adult would even consider looking at her like that.  Like she had done the most horrible thing in the universe._

_Hermione licked her lips, miserably anticipating the inevitable._

_"Well then…I suppose it isn't a mistake.  You're pregnant, Miss Granger."_

'You're pregnant, Miss Granger'._  Those were the four foulest words in the world.  The four words that impacted her life in the biggest way.  Aside from 'I slept with Malfoy', of course._

_Malfoy._

Oh Gods, what am I going to tell Draco?_ Hermione thought, panicked._  I _can't tell Draco this!  I won't.  He's out of my life; he made that much clear… __she concluded, frowning._

_It would punish the baby; there was no doubt in her mind.  And nothing could kill her more than punishing an innocent, refusing it it's father._

_Well, at least that's what Hermione thought__ would kill her most.  Until she heard herself whisper, "Is there a way to…get rid of it?"_

_The second those words escaped her mouth, she blushed with shame, and clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide._

_"Hermione?" Madam Pomphrey asked incredulously.  "Well, yes…if you're sure it's what you want…It's risky, though."_

_Hermione shook her head.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."_

_"Er, you may go now…I s'pose.  Best-best of luck," Pomphrey stammered, a tear filling her eye._

One good student down_, Hermione thought for her._

_Once out the door, Hermione formed her own tears.  She walked through the school in a daze, ignoring everything around her.  It wasn't hard, considering how much sounds and figures blurred into nothingness._

_She mourned that day.  Mourned for chances lost.  For a lover gone.  Mourned for her young freedom…and for a love ended badly._

_Hermione vaguely felt a concerned hand on her shoulder at one point, but she shrugged it off angrily, answering to no one._

_It was at the end of her waterworks that she decided firmly that in no way, shape, or form was Draco Malfoy to find out he was the father of her unborn baby.  It was then that she decided that no one besides the staff should know she was pregnant.  Not Harry, not Ron.  No one._

_~*~ End Flashback ~*~_

Hermione Granger picked up her daughter, trying with all her might to forget the day that she had felt so lost, and indecisive.

She was here now, with her daughter, stronger than ever.  And she didn't even need Draco to help her get there.

_Liar, her mind argued._

She _had used Draco in a way.  She used his foul memory to be able to claw her way back up.  To prove to him she didn't need him.  Hermione had to admit his signature in her yearbook definitely helped her get there._

Draco Malfoy.  To this day, his stupid, aristocratic name still left a bitterness in her mouth.  Stupid prat.

Leaving her high and dry, with shattered dreams, and an unborn child.  With one more secret to guard with her life.  Did he have any idea what that did to her?  It gave her a total of two secrets that could ruin her friendships with Ron and Harry.  Two secrets to possibly destroy any sort of meaningful relationship she may ever have!

Hermione knew if she ever happened to get involved with a wizard and told him—or worse, he found out—that she had not only slept with Draco Malfoy—possibly the cruelest, richest young wizard out there—but had his child as well…the poor man would run away, and never look back.

Which was perhaps why Hermione had turned away every single guy who ever expressed interest in her.  She just wasn't ready for a life of secrets.

She remembered with a smile when she found in a library, a catalogue of stuff for pregnant witches.  Namely, pregnant witches who didn't want anyone else to know.  She owed that company her life.

~*~

Carrie squeaked with delight, clapping her hands at Gretchen.  The dog squirmed, unhappy at being discovered.

"Carrie, let go of Gretchen," Hermione ordered warily, brushing her long curly hair.

Carrie pouted, pushing the dog away.  "But I wanna play!" she exclaimed in a tiny voice.  "I wuv Gwetchen!"

"Sweetie, don't talk like that.  You're old enough to pronounce it properly.  You aren't a baby, are you?" Hermione scolded, sighing.

"Bwush my hair!"

"Say it correctly."

"Bwush…brush," Carrie said finally, admitting defeat.

Hermione grinned triumphantly at her daughter, and picked up the pink brush Carrie had demanded be bought.  "Come here, you!"

Carrie giggled, and waddled over to her, still determined to act childish.

Hermione pulled the brush through her daughter's hair, feeling nostalgia wash through her.

Draco had that hair.  Draco had the pale, piercing eyes.  Draco had that sharp, refined nose.  Draco had the scowl and smirk Carrie loved using so much.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Hermione froze.  "Sweetie…go to your room, and stay there.  Please?  I'll give you a nice cookie," she bribed her.

Carrie scowled (there it was!), and crossed her arms stubbornly.  "No."

"Please, sweetie?  I'll buy you something!"

At this, Carrie perked up, but walked to her room, pouting.

Sighing, Hermione noted that Carrie had inherited her stubborn quality from both Hermione and Draco.

She swung open the door, biting her lip.  Her eyes widened at the sight of the person in front of her.

Dammit.  Busted.

~*~

**A/N:** So, the first official chapter!  How'd you like it so far?  Just from the prologue, which hardly divulged anything, I got 20 or so reviews!  I was shocked, lol.  Shocked…but pleased.  That was cool…

So onto you guys.  I feel so proud of you!  One reviewer, Snapegirl, guessed Hermione's secret, lol.  Not surprising, but nevertheless…And some of you delved deeper into the reason behind the name…good job, hehe.  One person even ventured a guess as to who the mystery woman is!  Lol, but as you can see…she SEEMS harmless…meh.

I lurved the fifth HP book, although a bit disappointed in the death.  I liked that person… :-(

So, have fun, read some stuff, and review!


	3. Roommates

**_Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco.  She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust._**

**_Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him.  He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart._**

**_As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life.  A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember._**

****

_Disclaimer: Sorry I've been forgetting these…All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling.  I make no profit off 'em.  Oh wait…I own Kyle Thompson (Yes, he makes an appearance in most my stories), Carrie Granger, and Hope Woods.  _

****

**Last Time:**

_[Hermione]_

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Hermione froze.  "Sweetie…go to your room, and stay there.  Please?  I'll give you a nice cookie," she bribed her.

_Carrie scowled (there it was!), and crossed her arms stubbornly.  "No."_

_"Please, sweetie?  I'll buy you something!"_

_At this, Carrie perked up, but walked to her room, pouting._

_Sighing, Hermione noted that Carrie had inherited her stubborn quality from both Hermione and Draco._

_She swung open the door, biting her lip.  Her eyes widened at the sight of the person in front of her._

_Dammit.  Busted._

_[Draco]_

_Draco sat broodingly on his favorite chair, refusing to socialize.  To hell with Lucius, and his family ideals.  To hell with them all._

_He had just glanced at a calendar and had realized what tonight was.  It was the five-year anniversary of the night that had changed the entire course of his life._

_Draco remembered with great detail how he had come around to leaving Hermione in the dust that night._

Draco let a low guttural growl escape his throat.  He had been so weak then.  But no more.

**Chapter Two: Roommates**

Draco cursed the sun, for streaming into his room so early in the morning, waking him up long before he should be awake.

His door slammed open with a loud bang, and a furious Lucius stood in the doorway.

"Draco," he said in a silky voice.  "Where did you disappear to last night?  Women were looking for you everywhere, and I must add impressively high-up men were asking about you."

Draco shrugged indifferently.  "I was off thinking."

"Oh," Lucius said, in a quiet voice, as though he understood.  "Did I _tell_ you could leave?" he demanded in a booming voice, a vein pulsing on his forehead.

"I don't really give a damn _what_ you tell me," Draco replied.  "I'll do whatever the bloody hell pleases me, and if you don't like it, tough."

Lucius walked towards Draco rapidly, his cane clicking on the tile floor.  Stopping mere inches from his nose, Lucius looked deeply into his son's eyes, regarding him with frigid silver eyes like Draco's.  "You _will listen to what I have to say, or suffer the consequences, you idiot son of mine!" he hissed._

Draco slid off the bed, his jaw set.  "I'm leaving, father.  I've had quite enough of this.  But think positively about this.  One more bedroom to bang your worthless whores in," he spat, picking up his wand.  "God knows you must pay them…"

"Like Hermione?" Lucius sneered.

Draco's teeth slammed together.  "Whatever floats your demented boat," he grit out.  "I could care less who you sleep with."

"So you wouldn't mind if I told you that not long after you left that piece of trash that I managed to…comfort her?" Lucius snarled.

"No, not really," Draco lied, clenching his fists.  Seeing reason, he added, "After all, you're not one to let a mudblood in your bed.  Besides which, I must say even she has more intelligence than that."

"Yes.  As obviously seen by her beating you for top student," Lucius retorted, his face contorted with fury.

"Obviously," Draco repeated, turning on his heel to leave.  "I'll send for my things later."

With that, he apparated out of the confines of the Malfoy Manor.

~*~

Harry stood at Hermione's doorstep, frowning.  "Hermione?" he asked, staring at her.

She fidgeted nervously.  "Yes?"

"Can I come in?" Harry asked, peering over her shoulder.

Hermione slammed her shoulder against the side he was trying to peer through, and cringed at her suspicious behavior.

Nervously pushing back a strand of wavy hair, her hand quaking, Hermione sputtered, "N-no, sorry.  Erm, I'm…I've…just finished painting, and, er, it's very…messy."

_Way to go, Granger, she thought, frowning._

"You mean…wet?" he questioned, eyeing her funnily.

"Yes, yes, of course!" she exclaimed shrilly.  Hermione cleared her throat.  "Um, yes, that's what I meant.  Say, Harry, where's Ron?"

Harry tried to peer around the other side, and stopped to stare at her.  "Around," he said slowly, narrowing his beautiful emerald eyes.

"HARRY!" a voice boomed from behind him.

"Yeah, Ron?" he called back.

Suddenly, the jogging figure of Ronald Weasley appeared on her doorstep as well.  "Hullo, Hermione," he greeted her.  "What's the hold-up?"

"Hermione won't let me in," Harry complained.

"Harry, I've already told you!  I just finished painting, that's all," Hermione cut in.

"We _never get to see your house!  It's always something with you, 'Mione."_

"Really, now?  _N-never seen it?" she stammered, leaning to the other side, trying to block Ron._

"What have you hidden in there, 'Mione?" Ron asked distrustfully, his lively blue eyes searching hers.

"I'm not hiding _anything_!" Hermione squeaked indignantly.

"It's like there's some big secret surrounding your house…and we want to know, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed exasperatedly.

She bit her lip again, and stepped forward slightly, closing the door with a cough.  "You know what?  I'm really sick and tired of all the crap you two dish out!" she cried, covering her face.

Through the spaces between her fingers, she saw both men shift uneasily looking worried.  She knew they were thinking 'Oh Gods, here comes the upset act'.

Hermione smirked, knowing full well that she had let Malfoy influence her far too much…which worked to her advantage every-so-often.

Continuing on her pity party, she wailed, "Merlin, do you know what it felt like when you two ignored me back in seventh year?  All over some nice Slytherin!  It wasn't Malfoy, who would step all over my heart if I let him…It was Kyle, a wizard who cares a great deal about me."

_Proven by events as of late, Hermione added in her head._

"Her—"

"Just stop!  After that, when my _grandpa died, you accused me of letting Malfoy do something to me!  And now…__now, just because I'm a little paranoid about how dirty and disgusting my house is, you two think I'm __hiding something!" she ranted, feeling guilty._

Lie after lie tumbled out of Hermione's mouth, and it was easy.  That scared her, how easy it was to lie to her two best friends in the entire world.

She felt the doorknob turn against her back, and for added drama, burst into fake tears.  Hermione shot her two completely innocent friends a dirty look, and ran into the house.

She gazed down at Carrie, frowning.  "I thought I said stay in your room!" she hissed, wiping her forehead.

Carrie looked at her with her big, pale eyes and pouted.  "You were yelling," she said softly.

The doorbell rang incessantly, and Hermione pushed her daughter gently into the hall.  "Room, now…please stay there, darling.  I have to invite my two friends in, and they don't know about you yet."

"Are you going to tell them?  Can I meet them?" Carrie questioned excitedly.

"Of course, soon I will," Hermione lied again, running a hand comfortingly through her daughter's hair.  She winced.  "Is that ok, sweetie?  You don't want to get Mummy in trouble, do you?"

Shaking her head solemnly, Carrie whispered fearfully, "Oh, no, Mummy!"

"Good, then go!"

As soon as Hermione was sure Carrie was gone, she waved her wand, reddening her eyes, and placing big, watery tears in her cinnamon eyes.

Quickly remember her excuse, she waved her wand again, causing her house to look trashed, and messy.  It made her involuntarily cringe, but her reputation was on the line.

She swung open the door again, stepping aside.  "There, see?" she demanded vehemently.

Harry and Ron nodded quickly, frowning.

"We're really sorry, 'Mione…we never meant to accuse you," Ron apologized.  His usually bright, lively blue eyes were now guilty and downcast.

Hermione felt a huge wave of guilt wash over her, like a wave crashing against the shore.  She was the liar, the one who they should never even speak to again!  She had no right to be indignant.

Hermione gave a tiny smile, her eyes glazing over.

She was ruining their friendship.  Had she not been listening to herself when they made her _promise never to lie to the two again?  Had she not seen how much her truthfulness meant to them?  Was she blind?_

_But no…not only are you risking your friendships with Harry and Ron just to keep your dirty little secret, but you're risking it by not telling them about Carrie, your pride and joy! Hermione's mind scolded._

She then looked back at Ron, shame written all over her face.  He was waving a hand frantically in front of her face.

"Hermione?!" he shouted, jumping up and down.

She had to stifle a laugh at his immature antics.  Snapping back to it, Hermione nodded and asked softly, "Yes?"

"Just checking, that's all…you were out of it for a second," Ron admitted sheepishly.

"Oh, no…just…thinking, that's all Ron," Hermione assured him, her gaze falling on the hall that kept her biggest, most hurtful secret.

~*~

Hope Woods leaned against the counter of The Three Broomsticks, where she was spending her time more and more often.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flustered Draco Malfoy stomp around outside, looking huffier than usual.

Amused, she put down the drink, trying to mask her concern.  He was carrying luggage, and that was never a good sign.

Hope stepped out the door, ignoring the jangling of the magical bells.  Leaning against the doorframe in what she hoped was an alluring position, she called out, "Having a bad time there, Malfoy?"

Draco's head snapped up in an endearing, confused manner.  He whirled around, finally seeing Hope.  "Hope," he snarled, dropping his bags.

"Need any help there, Sparky?"

"No, I'm _fine_, _thank you," Draco spat, taking out his wand.  He set a charm on his bags, causing them to float by his side._

"Too flustered to think of that earlier?" she asked with a smug smirk.

"Shove it, Woods."

"Wounding, I'm sure," Hope replied sarcastically.  "So what are you doing out here…with bags?  Redecorating the manor?"

"Don't be a git, Hope.  I'm _leaving," Draco replied, looking frustrated._

Hope straightened up, moving away from the door, and towards Draco.  "L-leaving?" she stuttered.

"Yes, Woods, _leaving_."

"B-but you can't!" she stammered indignantly.

_It'll ruin all__ my plans! Hope thought desperately.  After all, how were you supposed to make someone see what they're missing if they're not there anymore?_

"Can, and will," he shot back.  Rectifying his hunch, he sneered at her.  "Besides, what's it to you?  I'm just the filthy little Malfoy, right?  I'm sorry if you can't handle me bedding and dumping you, but that's the way it goes, honey."

Draco's all-too familiar stinging words caused Hope to wince, knowing with a great accuracy that it was this reason she wanted him to get his.

"Yeah, that's right, darling.  That's the only reasonable answer to my question as to why you hate me so much.  One, I haven't quite killed anyone yet—" The look Draco sent her after that made her nervous, and wonder if he would kill.  "—And two, I'm not married, or taken in anyway."

"You think to highly of yourself, Malfoy," Hope spat, pursing her lips.

Draco raised his eyebrows.  "Do I?"

She didn't answer, defiantly.  Suddenly, she remembered the problem at hand.  Draco would be leaving to only Merlin knew where.

She needed to stop it.

"I know where you can stay!" she shouted suddenly, wincing.  He'd hate her for life.  He just would.

"Where?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Erm…this friend of mine…" Hope said weakly.  He'd skin her alive, and that was _if_ she was lucky.

Draco nodded reluctantly, still highly suspicious of her sudden goodness.  "Ok, I'll bite."

~*~

Hope bit her lip, looking with pleading eyes.  "Please?" she begged, on her hands and knees.  "PLEASE?"

He shook his head fervently, appalled.  "No _way_," he hissed.

"I'll forever be in your debt!  Come on, PLEASE!"

Hope forced a tear into her eye, playing the guilt card, like she often found herself doing nowadays.  He'd go for it, and she knew it.

"Merlin, you've done so much for me already…but…it would mean the world to me!"

Kyle Thompson stared at her, looking very cheated.  "This has to be some sick joke…Fine, Malfoy can stay in my house.  But—" he interjected, at the sound of her squeal, "only for a few months, and any funny business, and he's gone!"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Hope shrieked, jumping up and down, hugging him with joy.  "Did I ever mention how much I love you?"

"Yes," Kyle sighed, rolling his eyes.

~*~

Draco Malfoy stood, staring in disbelief at the witch he had only just met.  "Are you joking?"

"No.  You can live with Kyle.  He said it was ok," Hope added, looking nervous.  She licked her lips in anticipation.

"How generous of him," Draco drawled sarcastically.

_This bitch is crazy.  No way_ I'm going to stay at pretty-boy's house!_ Draco's mind screamed._

"Draco, you know it's not polite to refuse such wonderful offers!  Besides, where _else are you going to stay?" she questioned, placing her hands on her hips._

Busted.

He let out a huge sigh, to let her know that he'd much rather eat his own limbs.  Then, he looked up at her, and frowned…just to let her know he wasn't happy.  "Fine," he said reluctantly.

Hope smiled brightly.  "Great.  Then let's just go on in…and Kyle will be down in a second.  To show you to your room, I mean," she added.

Draco scowled as he stepped inside.  The entry to his house was covered with pictures.

He followed her into the living room, seeing the room lined with one shelf going all around.  It too, had pictures.

Against his better judgement, Draco stepped closer the shelf nearest to him.  He jumped back, not expecting any of it at all.

Wasn't that inappropriate for Kyle to have that?

Draco bit his lip quickly, then looked at the picture that had frightened him so much.  It was a wizard picture of Thompson and Hermione, hugging and kissing every so often.

"D-doesn't that bother you?" he shakily asked Hope.  "Since the two of you are engaged…"

She shrugged, smirking.  "No.  Kyle can have whatever pictures he wants up, and same goes for me.  Just because she's his ex…I don't care.  I met her once.  Really nice, but very distraught.  Hermione, I believe the name was?"

Draco nodded.  "Yeah, Granger."

Hope tilted her head to one side.  "Why does the photo bother you so much?  Was there something between the two of you?"

He shook his head abruptly.  "Me?  And the mudblood?"  Draco laughed.  "Of course not."

She looked hurt at his use of the harsh word.  "That's not very nice, Malfoy.  I think it would be wisest if you refrained from calling Kyle's ex that in his own house."

"I don't give a damn _what_ I should or shouldn't do in Thompson's house!" he answered hotly.

"If you want to stay you will," a deep voice said from behind him.

Draco sneered, turning around to see Kyle.

This was going to be a double dose of hell…Living with Kyle, and being surrounded by pictures of Hermione.

Fabulous.

~*~

Kyle scowled, hugging Hope good-bye.  "Can't you stay just a little longer?  You're not _really_ going to leave me with this prat, are you?  Hope?"

Hope smiled, pulling away.  "Please?"

"What more do you want me to _do_ for you?" he whined.

"Just for a few weeks, until he finds a more suitable place.  You know as well as I do that Draco can't stay at my place!  If he could, I wouldn't ask you to—"

"Why couldn't you have just left him alone and bitter in the rain?"

She bit her lip, unprepared for the question.  Hope glanced around, as though afraid Draco was spying on them.

But he was still in the room they had left him in, looking with longing eyes at Hermione's picture.  It made Hope give a small smile.  So Draco Malfoy _was capable of caring._

Looking back into Kyle's bright sapphire eyes, she sighed, shrugging.  "You know just as well as I do," she answered wearily.

"I don't _know_ why you're so obsessed over him!  He hurt you, remember?"

"Like I said, you know just as much as I do.  I can't honestly say that I love him, because after it all…I'm just not sure what my heart's capable of anymore.  Just…please," Hope said, with another sigh.

Kyle thought she looked immensely tired, and his attitude softened.  "Two months."

Hope grinned, hugging him again.  "Thank you so much," she whispered in his ear.  "I promise once I figure everything out…I'll let you know.  Now, I have to get back…home.  You, be nice!"

He nodded, grasping her hand.  "Good luck."

"I think _I_ should be wishing _you luck.  I'm really sorry…"_

"Think nothing of it.  But I'm warning you, you owe me so much, your grandchildren will still be paying back mine."

She laughed, and gave a small wave.

He watched her pause to inform Malfoy he was on his own, and had two months to get back on his feet.

Kyle walked towards his former Slytherin-mate; a terse frown embedded on his face.  It was obvious that Draco wasn't quite thrilled either.

"Follow me to your room, Malfoy."

Gesturing to the pictures Draco demanded, "Why in the bloody hell do you have _her pictures up?"_

"To get idiots to ask me questions.  Mission accomplished."

Draco sneered.  "Funny, Thompson.  Be a stand-up comedian, you should."

"Yeah, well I'd be nothing next to the Amazing Bouncing Ferret," Kyle retorted quickly, grinning at the memory.

He fell silent, bitter at the old incident.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" Kyle asked seemingly randomly after they climbed the stairs.

Draco's icy silver eyes shot back over to Kyle.  "About what?"

Kyle glanced at the portrait of Hermione from graduation Draco had been gazing at.  "Her," he replied, jerking his head in the picture's direction.

Draco's eyes flicked coolly over the picture, his features impassive.  He looked back insolently at Kyle.  "You know, we were never chums.  I'm not going to tell you my personal business."

_Freezer burn, Kyle thought instantly, smirking.  "You love her, don't you?"_

Draco scoffed.  "Oh, please."  He was silent for a little, until he noticed Kyle staring at him patiently.  "Could you just get out of my face, please?"

"Answer my question, and I'll show you your room," Kyle replied smugly.

"I'll figure it out myself," he mumbled, stalking ahead.

"Good luck getting it opened!" Kyle called.

Draco froze, turning on his heel.  "_No," he answered slowly.  "She was nothing to me."_

"Say her name."

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes.  "Granger."

"No, Malfoy, her _full_ name.  Excluding her middle."

"Hermione Granger."

Kyle regarded Draco curiously, searching his cold eyes.  "Lucius teach you that?" he asked calmly.

Draco flinched at the mention of his father.  "Teach me _what_?" he shot back, in a dangerous tone.

"Yeah…he must've, to get you to do that to Hermione in seventh year…"

"Teach.  Me. _WHAT_?" Draco said impatiently, his voice rising.

"Teach you how to lie like that, with the same cold, unreadable face," Kyle answered after a moment's pause.

**A/N:** Well, there it is!  The second chappie (three to you guys: there was a Prologue) has been submitted…hehe.  Anyways, I've had some good guesses on who _Hope_ really is.  But I'm keeping my mouth shut.

Aww, you guys are so nice!  I'm averaging, like, 20 reviews a chapter!  Did I mention how much I love you guys?  Lol, cuz I do…I'm glad you all are liking this as much as I am.  I feel so spiffy.  Listening to this rock music is making me feel all energetic and crazy…I'm typing super-fast!!!  Lol, anyways…

As usual, if you'd like to be on my email list, leave it in a review.  If you've asked before, and you got the email for this chapter: you're on it.  No need to worry.  :-) Keep leaving your guesses on who Hope is/ why she's relevant!  I love reading it!

Till next time,

MusikLuver

[Submitted: July 5, 2003]


	4. Bloody Marvelous

**__**

Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco. She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust.

Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him. He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart.

As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life. A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember.

Disclaimer: The only characters I own are Kyle Thompson, Hope Woods, Harry's family, and any other random people I'd like to throw in here.

****

Last Time:

__

[Hermione]

She then looked back at Ron, shame written all over her face. He was waving a hand frantically in front of her face.

"Hermione?!" he shouted, jumping up and down.

She had to stifle a laugh at his immature antics. Snapping back to it, Hermione nodded and asked softly, "Yes?"

"Just checking, that's all…you were out of it for a second," Ron admitted sheepishly.

"Oh, no…just…thinking, that's all Ron," Hermione assured him, her gaze falling on the hall that kept her biggest, most hurtful secret.

****

[Draco]

"Hermione Granger."

Kyle regarded Draco curiously, searching his cold eyes. "Lucius teach you that?" he asked calmly.

Draco flinched at the mention of his father. "Teach me what?" he shot back, in a dangerous tone.

"Yeah…he must've, to get you to do that to Hermione in seventh year…"

"Teach. Me. WHAT?" Draco said impatiently, his voice rising.

"Teach you how to lie like that, with the same cold, unreadable face," Kyle answered after a moment's pause.

****

Chapter Three: Bloody Marvelous

Draco scowled, staring at Kyle. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied icily.

"I think you do," Kyle insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Look, I answered your idiotic question, can I just go to my 'room' now?" Draco hissed.

Kyle shrugged, and murmured an incantation, causing the wall before them to spring open and reveal a room.

"I assume you'll teach me that later?" Draco asked snottily.

"After we have a chat, maybe."

He sighed, flicking his wand. His bags followed him into the magnificent room (which he would never admit to thinking).

Draco dropped down on the enormous bed, finding it not far from the comfort zone he was used to.

He looked up to the ceiling that mirrored Hogwarts, in that the ceiling reflected the weather.

If anyone cared about him at all, it would be cloudy and rainy for the rest of his stay here.

~*~

Kyle smirked, wondering how long it would take Draco.

Whether he realized it or not, that room he was occupying was the room Hermione stayed in when she visited. The room she had hidden out in during the last few weeks of her pregnancy.

It was surprising, to be honest. The second he found out, he wasn't able to believe she had screwed up the guts to tell him.

Tilting his head thoughtfully, Kyle wondered what Draco _really_ felt about Hermione…and if she'd ever know the whole truth.

Kyle knew that whatever Draco told her, hadn't been the truth. Hermione simply refused to look at Draco during the first few months after. She wouldn't talk to him, or associate with him in any sort of way.

Which meant that his hawk-like gaze had fallen unnoticed to Hermione.

Kyle shook his head. Those two were an interesting couple, most definitely. Now, what he and Hermione had shared was buried in the past, where it would stay. There was nothing between the two, except memories, and a strong friendship.

"THOMPSON!" bellowed a voice.

Kyle grinned. _Show time._

"Yeah?" he called up, already halfway up the steps.

"What the fuck?!" Draco demanded, pointing up at the ceiling like a deranged maniac. "What the fuck is going on?"

Kyle shrugged. "What are you blathering about?"

"The-the ceiling!" he sputtered indignantly. "T-this…this is _Hermione's_ room, isn't it? She's here, isn't she?"

Kyle snickered, hiding his laugh. "No," he said slowly. "She's not here…"

"But this is her _room_," Draco insisted.

"Why do you think that, Malfoy?"

"The ceiling…she once mentioned how much she loved the Hogwarts ceiling…" Draco mused, calmer. "I can smell the perfume she wore. And there's a note…with her handwriting," he finished, brandishing an envelope.

Kyle stared, surprised, at the letter. "Where'd you get this?" he asked softly.

Draco pointed to the dresser next to his bed. "It was there. What's it say?"

Kyle read it slowly, a smirk crossing his face. "Just a thank-you," he lied, eyeing her loopy handwriting.

It was truly a copy of Draco's signature from her yearbook. Hermione had brought it with her…and written it over and over again.

"You _smell_ her?" Kyle finally asked incredulously, tearing his eyes away from the note.

Draco looked defiantly at Kyle. "Do you have a hearing problem, Thompson?" he sneered.

"No, I just find it highly stalker-ish. That's all."

Draco scowled, which was slowly replacing his smirk for the most recognizable expression.

~*~

Hope licked her lips, glancing around the quaint shop.

She had to find something for Kyle…she owed him big time. Despite all she had told him about the situation with Draco, he still found it hard to believe she wanted him so bad. And now he was living with him.

A fun little toy broom, perhaps? No, no…too childish. Finally, she settled on buying a golden frame.

The picture she planned on putting in it would serve as a double purpose. One, it would be a picture of Kyle and Hermione, someone he didn't have enough pictures of, beings as how little he really saw her. The second (and her most favorite purpose) was it would be another painful reminder to Draco.

But then…Draco wouldn't focus on _her_, would he? No, he'd be moping peacefully about Hermione.

Hope sighed. This was worthless! Maybe later she'd shop for Kyle.

As for now, the morning was young, and it was time to visit her two favorite wizards of the time.

She left the tiny shop, and apparated to Kyle's manor.

~*~

Draco crossed his arms, fully regretting that he had let that Hope woman convince him to stay.

Now, he was stuck in a room full of reminders, not letting him forget the things he needed to ignore most.

He cleared his throat, looking up at the people seated at the table, waiting lunch.

Kyle sat next to Hope, talking quietly with her, displaying a range of emotions. He frowned, smirked, smiled, looked amused, upset, disturbed, shocked…

The two stopped talking to look up at the disturbance.

"Am I not a guest?" Draco demanded, biting his tongue gently.

"Not a welcome one," Kyle muttered darkly, shoving his spoon around in the soup.

Hope elbowed him harshly, shooting him 'The Look'. "Yes, of course," she smiled, placing her chin back in her hand. "So sorry, Draco."

He smirked, looking triumphantly at Kyle. "Yes, well…so what's for lunch?" he asked finally, having nothing more to say.

"Mm, a steak, I believe," Hope answered pleasantly. "Potatoes, too, right darling?" she asked, eyeing Kyle.

He jumped when she tapped him. "What? Oh, yes, potatoes and corn. Should be out soon, I'd suspect."

"Lovely," she murmured, beginning to absently twirl a strand of her wavy dirty blonde hair.

Draco tilted his head, trying to remember why the simple action seemed so painfully familiar.

Hope glanced up, undoubtedly feeling his piercing stare. "I-I'm sorry, is something wrong?" she asked, glancing at her hand confusedly.

"No, Malfoy just has a staring problem," Kyle answered her dryly. "Seems to think he can stare at whoever he wants to. I'll have you know that's my fiancée you're ogling," he added defensively.

"Oh, shove it, Thompson. I wasn't staring at _her_. I was staring at the interesting piece of art you have behind her," Draco answered coolly, finding the lie with ease.

Kyle glanced at him suspiciously, before checking out the said painting. He rolled his eyes, but resumed chatting with Hope.

Meanwhile, she resumed twirling her hair around her finger. She smiled briefly at him, her emerald eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

Draco growled in frustration. She looked so bloody familiar like that!

He almost had a heart attack when he realized where it was that he had last seen a female do that.

__

~*~ Flashback ~*~

Draco settled into the seat in the library, looking up casually at the person across from him, time to time.

She refused to meet his gaze, and kept a stony face concentrated on the book before her. She'd purse her lips when his stare had been focused on her for five minutes.

Draco imagined that Hermione felt rather uncomfortable, and self-conscious under his cold, probing stare.

Finally, she heaved a sigh of frustration, and slammed the book shut. For one glorious moment, Draco thought she'd finally give in, and would talk to him.

But she merely jumped up, and moved farther down the table. Sitting once more, she flipped open the book, and rested her chin on her palm. With her free hand, she twirled her honey-colored hair.

He stood up calmly, taking his book with him back over to the shelf it belonged to. He randomly picked out another huge book, and settled into the seat across from her new one once more.

Hermione growled in anger, and finally looked up, dropping her hair.

Draco was shocked to see her eyes were watery and her jaw was set in a firm line. "Go. Away," she hissed with a wavering voice, devoid of all emotion. "Just leave me alone_!"_

He slightly bit his lip, before getting up, and stalking out of the library.

Fine. So she'd never try to talk to him, and understand why he did what he did. She'd just assume the rest, and painfully finish out the year.

Draco could do that too.

~*~ End Flashback ~*~

"Draco? Draco Malfoy? You're food's here…it's been sitting there for the past ten minutes!" Hope screamed in frustration, attempting to bring him out of his daze.

Draco looked around, from Hope to Kyle to his food. "Oh," was all he said before picking up his fork.

~*~

Draco growled, pacing his room.

There was so much to ponder. Why had Hope reminded him of Hermione? It wasn't as if twirling your hair was uncommon—not that he did it, of course—but…

After lunch, she had excused herself, and left again for home. Which meant she had once again left him alone with Kyle Thompson.

The second she had left, Draco left quickly, bounding up the stairs into his room. Since he was fast enough, Kyle had no opportunity to question him once more about Hermione.

__

Maybe the question isn't why does Hope remind me of Hermione…but who is Hope? Draco thought.

It was true…Hope had just showed up out of nowhere, at the worst time possible. After five long years, Draco had finally begun to stop constantly thinking about Hermione.

So was it really just coincidence that when she had shown up, all he could do was think of, talk about, and hear about Hermione? Was this some cruel joke from God?

"The _one_ time I get over the bitch, you send someone _else_ to me! Not just a pretty face, but one that I managed to piss off!" he ranted, staring up at the ceiling.

He glared hatefully at a cloud, clenching his fists. "I get it. I did wrong, leaving her like that. Don't you think I _know_ that?" Draco demanded.

He kept ranting on, completely unaware of Kyle's presence.

"It's not as though I could _tell_ her I'm sorry! She's not exactly here for me to explain everything, now is she?"

"Talking to the ceiling now?" Kyle broke in finally, a hint of satisfaction buried in his voice.

Draco's jaw set, and he stood frigidly, facing the opposite direction. "Sod off now, Thompson. I've had more than enough of your crap, thank you."

"So I see," he replied dryly, his lips twitching in amusement. "You know," Kyle added after a moment's pause, "I _could_ take you to Hermione…"

Draco snarled, "Is _that_ who you think I was talking about? _That_ stupid mudblood bitch?"

Kyle frowned. "Don't call her that. And yes…I _do_ think you were talking about her. I'm not Lucius, Draco. You can stop pretending."

Draco whirled around to face Kyle. "You shut your trap, before I kick your arse. Whoever said I was pretending?"

~*~

Hermione glanced down at Carrie, brushing a hand through her wavy hair. "Hey," she whispered softly to her daughter, smiling.

Carrie opened her eyes, yawning and stretching. "Hi mummy," she grinned sleepily, blinking slowly.

"Did you have a nice nap?" Hermione asked gently, staring aimlessly at Carrie.

While her daughter looked mostly like Draco, she still had some qualities from Hermione. Like the full, pouty lips, and gorgeous wavy hair. Carrie would hate it when it became frizzy and ugly.

Otherwise, she had the aristocratic nose, the platinum blonde hair, and the same facial expressions. Not to mention the pale crystal blue eyes. Hermione wasn't sure why not silver, but recalled that Draco's mother had blue eyes.

Carrie shrugged indifferently. "Yes. Did you tell them about me?"

"Them who, sweetie?" Hermione inquired, before vaguely remembering her two friends. "Oh, no…not quite yet."

Carrie scowled, pouting greatly. "I want presents."

"Why in the world do you think they'd give you gifts?" Hermione laughed. "It's not Christmas…or your birthday."

"Grandpa and Grandma gave me presents," Carrie insisted stubbornly. "Why not them?"

Hermione bit her lip. _Because they'd never speak to me, much less you, ever again,_ she thought grimly. "I don't know," she said instead. "I suppose they'd love to give you gifts."

Carrie grinned. "Yay! Presents!"

Hermione smiled sadly at her daughter. "Maybe later, honey. Mummy wants to call them now, so if you could keep it down…"

Her daughter looked humorously funny when she solemnly shut her mouth, zipped her lips, locked it, and threw the key away.

Hermione chuckled at the antics, and the way Carrie insisted that this invisible zipper and lock would keep her mouth shut, not bothering to remember that she had talked without undoing the process.

It was time to call them, and to get it out in the open. They deserved to know, and Carrie really wanted it. Maybe Harry and Ron would act like the father she would never, ever have.

Just maybe.

~*~

Harry settled onto his couch, smiling at his wife. "I have to take this one, its Hermione," he told her, holding up the phone.

She nodded, bouncing their son, James, on her left knee. "Go ahead."

Harry put the phone back up to his ear, and asked hesitantly, " 'Mione? You still there?"

"Yes," Hermione answered quietly. "Listen, I really need to meet with you and Ron…It's deathly important."

"Ron's in Romania. Just left this morning," Harry told her, looking puzzled. "Why, what's wrong?"

Ignoring his question, she cursed loudly, "Dammit!"

"Hermione? What's wrong?" he asked again, knitting his eyebrows together in concern.

"Forget it," she sighed. "I'll call back later. Er, how long will he be gone again?"

"I never said how long he'd be gone. But it'll be a good week," he answered, glancing at his wife, who was listening intently.

"Bloody wonderful," Hermione hissed quietly. "I finally work up the nerve to—"

" 'Mione? What are you mumbling about? Hermione, just tell me!"

"I said _forget it_, Harry!" she yelled, causing him to wince, and jerk the phone away. "I'm sorry," she murmured, sighing in frustration.

Harry looked bewilderedly once more at his wife. "Look, do you want me to come over there? I can be there ten minutes tops."

"No, no…I'm ok, I promise. Sorry if I sound so weird, it's just…I really need to tell you two something. But," she added quickly, before he could offer to just tell him, "I need both you _and_ Ron there."

"Ok, maybe I can owl Ron, and he'll come back fast—"

"No, Harry! I'll wait," Hermione insisted. "I want to be able to talk to you normally…before you hate me."

"Hate you? Hermione, what's going on?"

"How's your wife?" she pressed on, once more ignoring his question.

Harry glanced over at her. "My wife?"

Harry's wife glanced up at the mention of her title, looking at him confusedly. She brushed back her wavy hair, placing James on the floor.

"Yes, your wife. And your son, while I'm on it."

"James is just lovely, and Hope's fine."

****

A/N: Bwaha, I'm evil, aren't I? Lol, I like being evil! Tis so much fun…

Well, sorry it's not as long as it usually is. But that's all I could squeeze in, if that's how I wanted it to end.

Once more, I'd like to thank all my reviewers and give you huge kisses. Lol, I luv u guys beyond all belief. You're wonderful. I just got off work, and I decided that you people have been awesome, and deserved your new chapter.

Once more, if you'd like to be on the email notification notice, leave a name and address. Thanks!

R/R, por favor!


	5. The Vial

**__**

Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco. She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust.

Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him. He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart.

As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life. A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember.

Disclaimer: I only own Kyle Thompson, Hope Woods (sorta), Carrie, and anyone else I wish to throw in. Oh, and Johnny Depp, who is mah slutty pirate. Lol, jk.

****

Last time:

[Draco]

He kept ranting on, completely unaware of Kyle's presence.

"It's not as though I could tell her I'm sorry! She's not exactly here for me to explain everything, now is she?"

"Talking to the ceiling now?" Kyle broke in finally, a hint of satisfaction buried in his voice.

Draco's jaw set, and he stood frigidly, facing the opposite direction. "Sod off now, Thompson. I've had more than enough of your crap, thank you."

"So I see," he replied dryly, his lips twitching in amusement. "You know," Kyle added after a moment's pause, "I could take you to Hermione…"

Draco snarled, "Is that who you think I was talking about? That stupid mudblood bitch?"

Kyle frowned. "Don't call her that. And yes…I do think you were talking about her. I'm not Lucius, Draco. You can stop pretending."

Draco whirled around to face Kyle. "You shut your trap, before I kick your arse. Whoever said I was pretending?"

****

[Hermione]

No, Harry! I'll wait," Hermione insisted. "I want to be able to talk to you normally…before you hate me."

"Hate you? Hermione, what's going on?"

"How's your wife?" she pressed on, once more ignoring his question.

Harry glanced over at her. "My wife?"

Harry's wife glanced up at the mention of her title, looking at him confusedly. She brushed back her wavy hair, placing James on the floor.

"Yes, your wife. And your son, while I'm on it."

"James is just lovely, and Hope's fine."

****

Chapter Four: The Vial

Hermione settled onto her couch, hoping and praying for the end of the week. That way, Ron would be home, and she would finally be free of all her baggage.

She bit her lip, which was a nasty habit that she had reserved for whenever she was nervous or deep in thought. It was annoying, and Draco had once told her it was endearing—'In a stupid, silly mudblood way, anyhow'. Well, that was what he had added after seeing her expression.

Anything that was endearing to the hateful Malfoy had to go. Immediately.

She sighed contentedly, letting her memories take over.

__

~*~ Flashback ~*

Hermione strode over to a shelf, scanning it for the book on Potions she needed for her essay. Finally, she let out a relieved sigh, and reached for it.

Suddenly, a hand pulled it out, and she heard the book open, and a male voice murmur, "Interesting."

Hermione recognized the drawl immediately, and closed her eyes in frustration. "Go away, Malfoy," she groaned, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes.

She turned her head in order to hide her moist eyes from him.

"Hermione…you just…you have_ to let me explain! You don't understand, I—"_

"I don't have_ to let you do anything!" she exclaimed, one single tear rolling down her face, leaving a shimmering trail down her cheek. "Just sod off!"_

"But Hermione! I didn't mean to! It's not my f—it's not my fault! My father—"

"Save your pathetic excuses for someone who cares_, Malfoy," Hermione spat, heaving a deep, shuddering breath, and began to stalk away from him. _

"You just can't sit there and tell me you don't care when you're sitting there crying_, Hermione!" he yelled angrily, following her through the gaps in the shelf._

"I can't believe you have the nerve_ to _speak_ to me!" she hissed quietly, stopping her pacing, and turned to where she thought he was. "Because I don't care for what you have to say."_

"Pansy means nothing_ to me. _You_ do. Don't you get it?" Draco asked desperately, reaching through another gap in between the books to touch her outstretched hand._

"I know what happened. Pansy told me, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, grabbing the new book, and snatching her hand away from his fingers.

"T-Told you?" he asked in a confused tone, scratching his head. "Told you what?"

Hermione faltered, at seeing his piercing molten eyes next to a book. Shaking her head, she continued, "I was a bet_, Draco! She warned me that if you tried to come back to me…it was because this amused you, or Blaise set up another bet with you. So don't _you_ get it? I. Don't. Care. Go pay Blaise and all those other Slytherins their money and LEAVE ME ALONE! Don't forget to thank Pansy for me," Hermione added, turning her head away from him, her jaw clenched._

"A bet?" Draco repeated hollowly. "You think that it was a bet? Why would I be so evil to you at first? Huh? Did Pansy explain that?"

As calmly as she could muster, Hermione whispered, "Get away from me. I don't ever want to see you again."

"But you have_ to—"_

"Let me dumb it down for you, Malfoy. I don't want to be your friend, your girlfriend, you lover, your wife—I want no part of it. I will speak civilly to you for projects and in front of teachers only. This is because I value my position, and I will not_ let you take one more thing away from me."_

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione glared, and abruptly turned from the shelves. "Fine, I'm leaving, then."

"It's not what you think, Hermione," he said sadly. "But if this is what you want," Draco added quietly.

She froze on the spot, and swallowed, roughly wiping away the tears. Finally regaining her sense, she walked out of the rows of bookshelves.

~*~ End Flashback ~*~

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the sleeping form of Carrie.

It seemed foolish, to have turned it down. But she knew then that he was only trying to use her.

It was now that was her only problem. Draco had sounded so sincere, and it haunted her.

Could he have been telling the truth?

~*~

Draco turned around on his bed, moaning.

Her scent was everywhere. That stupid floral-fruity perfume she wore everyday!

Fuck Hermione. She didn't want him, so he didn't want her.

He turned his head, which was resting on the fluffy pillow. Draco gazed out the window with a sorrowful gaze.

He watched one solitary bird flit just outside the window, and scowled when another turned up. Everything had a partner but him these days!

There was an abrupt knock at the door, followed by a quiet, "Draco? Are you up yet?"

Draco moaned, and buried his head in the pillow.

There was another knock at the door, more insistent this time. "Draco?" the woman asked impatiently.

__

If Hope thinks I'm still asleep, she'll go away, he figured, grabbing another pillow, covering his head.

Just as Draco was pulling up the covers, Hope screamed, "DRACO! YOU GET OUT OF BED THIS _INSTANT_!"

His jaw dropped, and he rolled off his stomach, onto his back. He sneered, and grudgingly pulled his legs out of bed.

Draco's hand was on the knob, when he thought twice about it. He had, after all, been up for hours.

With that in mind, he cringed, and rubbed his hands fiercely through his hair, giving it a messy look. He took off his shirt, and threw it on the floor. 

Draco made a mess of the bed, and finally flung open the door.

Hope was standing there angrily, hand raised, prepared to knock again. She started screaming again, and knocked, never noticing him.

Draco howled in pain when her fist collided with his forehead. "You stupid bitch!" he seethed, clutching his head. "Did you not see me open the door?"

She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. "You're joking?" she asked in a disbelieving tone. "I've been pounding on this door for the past five minutes!"

He scowled, and gestured to his bed. "Just got up," he said simply, running a hand through his tousled hair.

Hope's arms folded neatly across of her chest, as she observed him and his room. "Did you drink last night? I don't see you for the type of person who thrashes about while he sleeps."

Draco shrugged. "Mighta had a glass or two," he answered nonchalantly, turning to go back into his room. "Mind telling me what was so urgent for me to get up right this second?"

He felt Hope's eyes drilling holes into his bare back as he searched through his dresser for a new, suitable top.

"Would you mind not staring at me, undressing me with your eyes? I believe you're about to be married, dearest Hope," Draco called over to her cockily.

She huffed, "I am not _undressing you_ with my eyes! I have better things to do, Malfoy," she retorted, watching him turn around, and shrug on the sky blue button-up.

"Uh huh," he replied sarcastically, buttoning up all but two.

"Anyway," Hope began, ignoring his sarcasm, "Kyle's off to work in the Ministry, and I have the week off. So, we're going house hunting."

"House hunting?" Draco repeated, skeptically.

"Yes," she replied brusquely. "Don't give me that tone. You only have two months at this house, before Kyle kicks you out."

"I could always live with you," he hinted, with a sly grin. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

Hope scoffed, rolling her eyes. "In your dreams, Malfoy!"

Draco froze. In his dreams? That sounded so familiar…

"_In your dreams," she spat._

"In my dreams? No, in my bed, Hermione. You're gonna be afraid of the strong feelings you're gonna have. That's a promise, Granger."

Draco flinched...he had been such an arse then. "Yeah," he gulped faintly. "In my dreams."

Hope cocked her head to the side, and looked at him strangely. "Draco? You ok?" she asked, this time concerned. "You just got really quiet. I'd expect some egotistical remark from you," she laughed.

Draco waved his hand, shaking his head. "No, I'm fine. Well, let's go do this infernal…'house hunting'."

She gave a small laugh, and grabbed his hand. "Follow me."

Draco looked down at her delicate fingers entwined with his, and blinked. He let a wistful grin escape, tugging at the corners of his mouth.

~*~

Hope's heart was beating furiously. It was a stupid move, grabbing his hand! She'd never want to let go, and—

"Did you find any good houses?" he asked in a slightly strangled voice. He coughed, his pale cheeks becoming washed over with a tinge of pink.

She smiled again, at his awkwardness. It was cute, it was adorable…it was _wrong_. "Um, yeah, I found one or two. Of course, they're not as enormous as the legendary Malfoy Manor, but…they're decent."

Draco nodded, unconsciously squeezing her hand reassuringly as he insisted, "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Handholding was a gigantic, massive no. Simply because Draco had unintentionally squeezed her hand, her heart was going wild!

There were things to consider here. He thought that she was engaged to Kyle, and by letting this charade continue on, his ego was inflating, for sure. He probably thought that she was giving into his charms, and would leave Kyle…

Hope yanked her hand away gently, wiping it on her robes. "We're here," she announced, turning to face Draco.

His face had been a picture of disappointment, but as soon as he caught her gaze, he fixed on the stony face. "Great," he intoned.

Hope heaved a sigh, and watched Draco open the black gate, stepping through, and holding it open for her.

"Thanks," she murmured quietly, trying to ease her rapid heartbeat. "The owners should be out in a minute," she informed him, resting her hands stiffly by her sides.

He nodded, and they waited in tense silence for two minutes before the gargantuan door creaked open, revealing a friendly old woman. "Hello, please, come in!"

Hope stepped through first, and Draco followed close behind.

"This is the entryway, of course. To your left, is the living room. Next to that, we have a ballroom, which is large enough to have a decent party," the old witch began.

Hope snuck a glance at Draco, who was still regarding it with a stony face. "What's your name?" he asked suddenly.

"Amanda Simpson," the witch answered, continuing on, after they had peeked into the ballroom.

"I see," he said softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Your home is lovely," he added, trying to make conversation.

"That's nice," Amanda answered quickly and carelessly. "As I was saying—"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm interested, ma'am," Draco cut in, his eyes flashing. "It's really not what I'm looking for…"

"Excuse me?" the witch exclaimed, as she unintentionally slammed the door to the ballroom.

"_Draco_," Hope hissed, looking apologetically at the woman. "Terribly sorry, miss," she mumbled, following Draco, who stalked out the door.

"I don't want it," he told her again, as she eased the door shut.

"Why? It's lovely!"

"But that hag is absolutely horrendous! She wouldn't even carry on a polite conversation—" Draco began, before Hope held up her hand impatiently.

"Do you mean to tell me that you don't want this place merely because the witch can't have a 'friendly' conversation with you!" she shrieked, walking away quickly. "Are you insane?!"

"I wouldn't _expect_ you to understand," Draco retorted sharply, his arms crossed. "I wouldn't expect _anyone_ to understand!"

"Don't shout," Hope growled, stopping without warning.

"I'll damn well do WHAT I WANT!" he roared, sneering. "I said I didn't want the place, and that's final. I'm going back to Kyle's."

"No you won't," Hope nagged stubbornly. "There's one more house, and you are _going_ to see it."

"I don't _have_ to do anything _you_ say!" Draco grumbled, turning the other way. "I just told you I'm not going to have another moment of this."

She grabbed the sleeve of his robes, causing him to halt to a stop. "You are. Now why is conversation so important to you?"

"Forget it," he answered, his muscles tensing. "Just forget it."

"No. Tell me why!"

"Sod off!"

~*~

Draco was positively boiling, steaming at the sides. That woman knew how to push his buttons, which was certainly aggravating.

Sighing in defeat, he knew she'd never leave him alone until he told her.

"I just like to know that the owner of the place was nice, ok? I don't enjoy living in houses that previously had horrible people staying there. It's just a thing. Now leave me the bloody hell alone," he added angrily.

"Oh," Hope said softly. "Is it because of your old house? Because your family treated you and others awfully?"

"Not that it's any of your business—but yes. I don't want to be anymore like them than I am now, thank you. It's just a weird thing my mother planted into my head," Draco indicated, his voice wavering at the mention of his mum.

"Draco…I'm so, so sorry," Hope whispered. "I-I didn't know…I know your mum must mean a lot—"

"I said leave me alone," Draco interrupted, his jaw set. "I don't want to talk about her. You know _nothing_ about me."

"I know you were hurt before," she protested, tapping his shoulder. "And I know the way it feels."

"Yeah, because that's what I did to you, right?" he asked snidely, whirling to face her. "And somehow you thinks that makes you something like me, huh? Is that what you think?"

"No, I'd _never_ insinuate that I was like you. I was only saying that I know how it—"

"You know how it feels, do you?" Draco laughed. "Is that what you honestly think? You couldn't. You have no idea what it's like to lose your one—"

He stopped himself before he could finish the sentence. He had been seconds away from saying '_only love_'.

"Mother? Yes, I do. Don't you think for just _one_ second that just because you lost your mother, that you have the right to be all mad and defensive at me! I lost mine too!" Hope screamed with a fiery passion.

"I wasn't going to say that," Draco scowled. "Don't go assuming things, Woods. It only ends up making you look like an ass."

~*~

Harry Potter plopped onto his sofa, not expecting his wife for a good two hours.

He scratched his head, remembering how crazy Hermione had sounded on the phone the other day.

He just wished Ron would come back soon, because he was quite curious as to why Hermione was so insistent on waiting.

What could have possibly freaked her so bad, to make her think that either of them could hate her?

__

It has to be bad, he reasoned_, because Hermione was always the reasonable one out of the three of us._

Harry was very nervous, feeling incredibly drained. The entire day, he had been distracted, remembering Hermione's urgent voice, and the sorrow in it when she told him he'd hate her.

Maybe it would be wise to visit her, and go check up on her…

~*~

Hope slammed the door to her house, and settled down onto her bed.

Frustrated, she summoned her mirror, and gazed at her reflection. Features she was so painfully familiar with stared her back in the face. This wasn't who she was…at all.

The dirty blonde hair, and the emerald eyes she had been so fond of before, was disturbing.

Her eyes were the same emerald green of the boy she used to dream about marrying. Nothing but a memory now, as she realized how badly she had been treating Harry Potter lately.

The truth would be out soon, and she'd be free.

Hope sighed, and remembered the day's events. Draco had turned so harsh, and refused to go anywhere with her. He had holed up in his room, refusing to come down for meals.

Eventually, she had given in, and sent up a house elf with his meals. Apparently, according to the elf, he had not answered the door, so the tray had been left there.

Checking the hallway of his room confirmed that Draco was being stubborn, and had taken his tray after Tipsy left.

Hope looked away from the mirror, and pulled out the vial attached to her hidden silver necklace.

Just one sip, and it would all be normal again.

She lifted up the tiny bottle, and took a sip, the other bottle clanking noisily next to it.

Slowly, but surely, she felt the potion take effect. She looked back into the mirror, with a grim smile.

The dirty blonde vaguely wavy hair was transforming into the brown she perceived as dull, with lots of curls that had always annoyed her.

The emerald eyes that haunted her now, for her lies, changed back into the vibrant chocolate eyes she adored.

The rest of her face and body changed, as she said goodbye to Hope Woods.

"Hello, Hermione Granger," she whispered softly, clutching at her face.

****

A/N: Firstly, sorry if this entire thing showed up bold, but I just can't seem to make the damned thing be normal...so, i had to sacrifice to get this evil chapter out.

I know that this is all very confusing, and you'd love to hit me, but, lol, it shall be explained! Hehe, that's pure evil…leading my poor readers to think Hope was Harry's wife, when really, it was Hermione. Perhaps you can figure it out!

Anywayz, I'd sincerely like to thank all of my readers, and my reviewers for getting me to the 100 mark right now. That's seriously awesome.

Now…for the shameless plugs! I have a new Hr/D story, called Mr. Wrong. It takes place in the future, and has a bit of H/Hr, too. Second chapter is half done. Now then…one more thing! I have yet _another_ idea (which I will wait until I finish one of these stories, I think) for this place. It's a murder mystery, and that's all I'm saying. Then after that, I have 5 or so stories in the works that I like, but I'll wait for a while on those, too. What can I say? I love to write, lol.

Hope you enjoyed this.

[Submitted: July 25, 2003]


	6. Worthless Apologies

**_Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco. She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust._**

**_Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him. He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart._**

As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life. A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember.

****

**_Disclaimer:_ I don't own anyone but Carrie, Kyle, Hope Potter, and Hope Woods…Who I bend to my demented will.  I have the final say in their fictional lives!! MWAHAH!!  Lol, jk…sorry, I'm not really that creepy, I promise.**

**Chapter Five: Worthless Apologies**

Draco scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed about the other day.  "Look, Hope, I'm sorry if I made you feel…anything bad you might have felt," he began, biting his lip.

There was a sigh from across the room.  He winced.  It sounded terrible, and he knew it.

"Um…I really appreciated the fact that you cared enough to look out for me, but I'm just unbelievably picky.  So maybe…you could just forget that ever happened—"

"Mister Malfoy, Slinky thinks that your words are beautiful.  But, if Slinky may, he really needs to get back to the Kitchens, sir," the house elf said timidly.

"Yeah, yeah, just go," Draco sighed, waving his hand.  "It was a disgustingly stupid idea anyway," he added in a softer tone.  "I sound like the most idiotic git, practicing to a house elf…"

He buried his head in his hands, blinking a few times.  Running a hand through his tousled hair, he peeked into the mirror he had been glancing at the fidgety elf in.

"You're a mess," Draco whispered to himself.  "Falling all over yourself for an unavailable witch, while thinking about Hermione the entire time.  Then, you let yourself grow bitter over a family memory."

He scoffed.  It was a good thing Thompson was still at work in the Ministry; or else he'd be ragging on him for talking to himself like a common house elf.

Draco still had to wonder if Hope had been avoiding Kyle's manor because of the scene that he had caused after walking out on that old witch.

In a way, he felt really terrible, because he must've put down Hope a lot.  Which was something Draco had promised himself he would never do again to another woman.  Not after the fiasco in seventh year.

_There I go again, thinking about bloody Hermione!_

Finally, Draco just decided it was best to just write Hope a letter of apology and have his trusty owl deliver it to her.

So he sat down, and began to write his fifth letter while at this place.  Draco knew it would short, sweet, and to the point.  He was always a man who liked to cut to the chase.

Hope— 

_I am sincerely sorry if I hurt you in any sort of way the other day.  I really appreciate that you care enough to look for houses for me.  I hope our argument didn't keep you from showing up here these past few days._

_Please write back or something, so I know if you're…still upset or something._

_--D.M._

Ok, not very tactful, but it was the best he could come up with.

He whistled for his owl, Damon, holding out the rolled parchment.  When he landed on his shoulder obediently, Draco whispered, "Take this to Hope.  It's fairly urgent."

His owl gave an affectionate nip, a hoot, and took off.

It was only when Damon was a mere dot in the sky did he realize he probably should have specified her last name.

~*~

Hermione glanced worriedly at Carrie, who was sick with the fever.

Her temperature was high, and it had been for the past few days.  The mediwitch they had gone to see did as best as she could, but she was certainly no Madam Pomphrey.

Hermione gently touched her daughter's forehead with the back of her palm, and was a bit relieved to find that it was certainly cooler than it had been.

Carrie coughed for a few minutes, and weakly whispered, "Mummy?"

"Yes, darling?" Hermione whispered back.

"I'm feeling better."

She laughed, and hugged her daughter.  Hermione wasn't quite sure why she laughed, but it was probably because she had been so serious for a long time.

"I'm going to get you a glass of water, ok?"

Carrie nodded, coughing again.

Hermione walked briskly to the kitchen, and filled up a small glass of purified water, before leaning against the counter wearily.

So much had been happening the last month or so of her life.

She wasn't quite positive why she chose the name Hope for her "new identity", but she did.

After finding the potion that enabled her to change her appearance, Hermione searched for a good name that didn't invoke suspicion.  Of course, choosing the name of your best friend's wife isn't exactly laying low.

As for the last name…well, that was completely random.

"Mum!" Carrie hollered hoarsely.

"Coming, sweetie!" Hermione yelled back, rushing towards the bedroom.

~*~

Hope Potter stared at the strange owl in her room.  "What do you want?" she asked softly, glancing over at James.

The majestic owl hooted, sticking out its leg.

She reached out hesitantly, unrolling the parchment.  Her eyes scanned over the letter written in a lovely handwriting, and frowned.

"DM?" she asked out loud.  "Who in the bloody heck is DM?" she inquired, gazing curiously at the owl.  "I don't know this person," Hope said firmly, shoving back the parchment.  "Shoo!"

The owl hooted indignantly, ruffling its snowy feathers.  It shoved the letter back out persistently, nipping her finger.

"I said _shoo_!  I don't know any DM!  Go away before my husband comes home!" Hope protested, unable to believe she was yelling at a strange owl.

The owl refused to move.

"Fine!  I'll take the stupid letter.  But I'm not paying you, mind you," she hissed, checking on James again.

The damned owl finally took off, not glancing back at her.

Hope sighed, tossing the letter in the trashcan in the bathroom.  "Damned owl," she whispered, sure that impressionable James hadn't heard his mum.

"Darling?" a deep voice called after she heard a door swing open.  "Where are you and James?"

"Harry!" Hope yelled back, relieved.  Rushing to the living room, she smiled.  "You wouldn't even _begin to believe what just happened!"_

Harry's green eyes twinkled, as he grinned.  "Try me," he replied good-naturedly, wrapping his arm around her waist.  "I could do with a good story."

"Why?  Was work bad today, Harry?" she asked worriedly.

"No, it was fine.  Just a bit tedious, and my secretary's being a huge prat," he answered breezily, dismissing the topic.  "Now about this weird excitement?"

Hope sat on the sofa, and frowned.  "The strangest white owl just flew into our window, and insisted I took this strange letter," she began, wrinkling her nose.  "It was some strange apology written to me—I think—but the thing was I've never heard of this person."

"Who was it from?" Harry asked, leaning forward.  "I don't like the sound of this at all."

"Now, Harry, don't get all worked up and worried, I'm sure the owl simply made a mistake.  Anyway, it was signed by a 'DM'," she finished, sniffing.

"DM?" her husband asked, jumping up.  "No way.  It can't be…I mean—"

"Honey, what are you going on about?  You sound like a raving lunatic.  It's the one thing that isn't becoming on you," Hope teased, patting his hand.

"Do you think it could be Draco Malfoy mailing you?  That git always did hate me…"

"Draco?  I've never spoken to him in my entire life!" Hope protested.  "I've never met any sort of Malfoy, only seen them in pictures.  Why would he just up and mail me?"

"To bother me?  I thought he got over that a long time ago!  It's not as though I _meant_ to send his father to Azkaban—"

Hope jumped at the name of the dreary prison.

"I enjoyed it thoroughly, yes, but it's not as if Lucius didn't get _out_…" Harry continued musing.  "It's been so long though!  He wasn't particularly nasty in our last year, so I only assumed…"

"Would you care to explain?" Hope demanded, pursing her lips.  "I know you're the famous Harry Potter and all, and that you've done extraordinary things, but…"

"I never told you?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows, in an adorable way.  It certainly softened her indignant feelings.

"No.  I'd much rather know the situation if this Draco is trying to harass me.  Although…the letter was fairly friendly.  It was strange, albeit, but still.  There was a certain tone to it that doesn't quite scream 'stalker'."

"Well, there are things you and I don't know about Draco Malfoy.  But I _do know that he's sneaky, clever…" Harry began, with a far off look on his face._

Hope tilted her head with interest.  "Oh?"

~*~

Draco sighed, wondering what was taking Hope so long to reply.  It was quite simple, really.

He was just starting to get up when a painfully familiar owl flew into his opened window, and landed on the writing desk.

"Damn," he cursed.  "Forgot to shut the window!"

Reluctantly, Draco approached the owl, and snatched up the letter in its claws.  "Here," he spat, handing her a Sickle.  That's all I'm giving you."

Desdemona, the owl, flew off, and Draco was sure she was glaring at him with her feathers.

He knew it was foolish to have thought he would get off so easily.  Lucius was not readily shaken off.

_You think you're clever, do you?  Just taking off without a word.  I assure you, son, that while you may have been harder to track down, this is not over with._

_Your sheer arrogance is rather obnoxious.  Now, I'll leave you with this warning.  But don't think you'll get off so lucky if I have to get you myself._

_You will be home in two days.  Be grateful I'm giving you time to pack, and bid your farewells—which is not something I do often._

_I won't accept failure to comply with my demand.  You know what failure means, Draco.  I think you know a bit too well, but it hasn't quite sunken in, has it?  Your mother was always a failure, too._

_--L.H.M._

Draco let out a low growl.  How dare he insult his late mother!

_The demanding son of a bitch,_ Draco thought hatefully.  _I absolutely refuse to do anything of the sort!  I'm a grown wizard for Merlin's sake!_

There was a knock on the door, and Draco quickly shoved the damned letter into his pocket.  "Yes?" he called through the door.

"It's Kyle.  Dinner's ready," Kyle yelled.  In a more sarcastic tone, he added, "So if his majesty would kindly grant us with his presence…"

Draco glared at the direction of the door, grumbling.  " '_If his majesty would kindly grant us…' " he mimicked, flinging it open.  "I'll grant you with my fist in your face…"_

~*~

It was the end of the week.  The day was sunny and bright, despite what the promises of the day brought.  Wind gently blew through the trees, simulating the sound of rain.

Hermione even had to check.  She bit her lip.

Ron was due back home any hour now.  The moment of truth was coming up at the same time.

She felt better leaving Carrie home with the sitter, now that Carrie was much better.  All she had to do now was wait for call from Harry…

Hermione paced her kitchen anxiously, hearing happy laughter floating into her window from outside.  It was as though they were gloating.  Mocking her, because she faced the chance of losing her own friends.

_Ring.  Come on, ring,_ she silently commanded the phone desperately.  _Harry has to call, Lou Ann needs to get here, and Carrie needs to behave.  Most importantly, those boys had better understand._

Willing things with her mind to work in her favor wasn't quite the brightest thing to do.  It would jinx her for sure.

"Ring!" Hermione yelled, slamming her fist down on the counter.  "For Merlin's sake, I really need this day to be over with," she moaned, leaning over the surface.

_I've gone stark-raving mad,_ she thought, staring wearily at the patterns in the counter.

Funnily enough, the second the phone rang shrilly in her ear, Hermione jumped, clutching her chest.

Shakily, she raised the phone, acting as if this would be her last conversation before he death.  "Harry?" she asked hesitantly.

"Hermione, I'm glad I reached you!  Ron's running a bit late, I'm afraid.  Stupid git overslept.  So he called to tell me he'd be apparating over in an hour.  Can you handle that?"

Hermione cleared her throat.  "Of course I can.  Ok…bye."

"See you later," Harry added, before she hung up the phone.

"As if I had a choice," Hermione added under her breath, staring angrily at the phone.  "Ron really needs to hurry the bloody hell up before I go insane!"

The doorbell rang, and she knew it was Lou Ann, Carrie's babysitter.  Well, it was a brief reprieve, anyway.

~*~

Dinner was tense.  There was no denying that.

Draco sat across from Kyle, who was tensely eating his soup, staring straight ahead at the wall.  This was your average meal.

"So," he began, clearing his throat.  "Do you know where Hope is?"

Kyle resisted the urge to drop his spoon and toss a fork at Draco.  It wasn't as if he could provide a real answer himself.  It would be suspicious.  Dropping his spoon with a loud clang, he glared at Draco.  "No.  I don't."

Draco nodded.  "Fair enough.  Did she ever mention the other day…?"

"No, can't say that she didn't.  Anymore questions?" Kyle asked harshly.  "Because if not, I'd like to finish my soup and go up to my study."

Draco gestured to the door.  "By all means," he smirked, brushing back a lock of pale blonde hair.

Kyle stood up, just leaving his unfinished soup sitting on the table.  "If you'll excuse me…"

After he had left the stuffy dining room, and gotten to his study, he checked the clock.  By now, Hermione should have been going to go meet Ron and Harry.

~*~

Hermione had decided it was a lovely day out, and she should go to Harry's the old-fashioned way, and walk.

Birds had chirped, trees swayed gently with the soft breeze and the sun beamed down, caressing her skin with its warmth.

In other words, it was a day completely opposite to the way it would turn out in the end.

Hermione predicted a fight between herself and her friends.  She was bracing herself for the worst, and had a bleak outlook on what might happen at Harry's house.

By the time she knocked on the door, she was a complete nervous wreck, practically sweating, and her heart racing furiously.

She was greeted by the warm smiles of Ron and Harry.  Even his wife (her other identity's namesake), Hope, was beaming at her.  It was rather unnerving, and she almost yelled for them to stop grinning like the Cheshire cat.

But instead, Hermione nodded politely, sitting down on the sofa nervously, folding her hands instantly.  She cleared her throat, eyeing her three friends nervously.

In all truth, Hope had nothing really to do with the future declaration, but didn't have the heart to ask her to leave.

"So…how has your week been?" she asked them in a squeaky voice.

Harry looked at her strangely, regarding her with careful emerald eyes.  "Fine…" he answered slowly.  "A few weird incidents involving an owl, but nothing major."

Hope nodded in agreement, but said nothing to further back up the story.  She gazed around, avoiding any particular spot.  Hermione found this peculiar, but ignored it.

Ron beamed, his lively blue eyes twinkling with excitement.  "It was brilliant.  Charlie showed us a few dragons, and Fred got one to breathe on George, who got mildly burned.  But don't worry, Mum fixed him up quickly," he added, seeing Hermione's horrified expression.

"Oh," she replied, tilting her head.  They were acting as if nothing were wrong, and they were back in Hogwarts.

"So, how was your week?" Harry asked kindly, gripping his wife's hand.  "Was it exciting?"

Hermione opened her mouth, prepared to relay the week's events.  But then she realized it was the wrong thing to do, as they knew nothing about her real life now.  "I—You know, that's what I need to talk to you guys about."

Ron nodded encouragingly, and Hope gave her a distracted smile.

"So…erm…Harry, could I use your bathroom, please?" Hermione pleaded suddenly, feeling desperately ill.

Harry looked confused, but gave a slight nod of his head.  "The door next to my room," he reminded her.

She jumped up, racing for the bathroom.  She was going to hurl, and she was going to hurl now.  There was no bloody way to tell them without dying on the spot.

They'd never speak to her again, they'd hate her, and they'd ignore her…

Hermione stopped her negative thinking at the sight of crumpled parchment in the trashcan of the bathroom.

Unable to hold her curiosity, she grabbed it, and opened it up delicately.  Maybe it was something that would explain Hope's unease.  Perhaps she and Harry had a row before Ron arrived?

Instead, Hermione dropped the letter immediately, gasping for air.  It was from Draco.  Upon closer examination, it was plain to see that it was an apology note to Hope.  Or Hermione, beings as she was masquerading as a witch named Hope Woods.

Remembering that it was meant for her, made her breathe more easily, and she read over the words again with a slight smile.  Draco still cared after all.

_Oh, don't even try thinking he still cares for you.  This was meant for the lovely Hope Woods, not Hermione,_ her mind scolded.

Then Hermione bit her lip, wondering what the original Hope and Harry had thought of this seemingly random letter.  Surely, Harry had recognized DM as Draco Malfoy…

Without a second thought, she burst out of the bathroom, holding the letter in her hand.  It was certainly a way to break the ice…

~*~

Harry listened to Ron's wild predictions as to Hermione's big secret problem with amusement, and anger.  Each situation got worse and worse.  If Hermione had one of those problems, who _knew what would happen between the formerly inseparable Trio._

"Merlin, Harry!  What if she's pregnant, and has been secretly having an affair with…with…Crabbe?!" Ron yelped, looking horrified.

Harry clenched his jaw, and relaxed only when his wife reassured Ron, "Don't be ridiculous.  Why would she hide something so huge?"

It was true.  This was sensible Hermione they were gossiping about.  It made him feel guilty, for thinking Hermione could be so stupid as to be a part of one of these outrageous scenarios.

Ron was just about to think up another one when Hermione cleared her throat, looking flushed with embarrassment.

He shot Ron a dirty look.  She had obviously overheard the last one.

"Um…" she started nervously, wringing her hands, with difficulty.  Harry noticed the parchment in her hand.  "I think…Harry, have you read the letter from Draco?"

Harry shot her a bewildered look.  "You went through our trash?"

Hermione nodded slowly.  "It just looked out of place, I'm sorry.  Please answer the question."

"Er, yes.  I've seen it.  I find it rather odd that Draco would write to my wife so suddenly, and it's disturbed her a bit."

Hermione nodded again.  "Ron, if you would read it, too, now?" she said, making it sound like a question, rather than a request, as she handed over the letter to him.

Ron's eyes skimmed over it, and he gave Hermione a doubtful look.  "Am I missing something?  I don't really get what this has to do with your thing…"

"It has just about everything to do with it," she replied in a quiet whisper.  "I've been seeing Draco for probably a month now."

"Then he has a serious problem remembering names," Ron joked, and it was clear he didn't believe her.

"No.  He has it right.  I've been taking a potion, and pretending to be a woman named Hope."

Harry stared at her, refusing to let the words sink in.  It didn't make sense, anyway.  Hermione sounded insane, or drunk.  She sounded drunkenly delirious.

"Here," she offered, withdrawing a simple vial from within her shirt.  It contained a emerald liquid that seemed to glow.  She brought it up to her lips, and drank a little bit.

Instantly, her familiar features changed, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hope bewildered, shocked, and a bit fearful.

"Do you get it?" Hermione asked in a voice that sounded nothing like hers.  "I've been pretending to be someone else so I could talk to Draco.  To be with him."

With that uncomfortable statement, she took out another vial attached to the necklace, filled with a dull blue liquid.  Hermione took a sip, and she was normal again.

"But…why would you _want to be with that scumbag?" Ron asked desperately trying to understand._

Harry refused to speak, or ask questions.  He figured if he shut up, she'd break into a grin and yell "April Fool's!"

Hermione's calm expression changed to a more deathly serious one, and she looked very pale.  Sick, even.  "It gets worse."

But that wasn't important to Harry right now.  She deserved this, if there was more, and it was worse.

She sucked in a breath.  "Something important happened between Draco and I in our last year.  And lately, I've been trying to find a way to tell him.  This was the best way I could come up with," Hermione admitted, tears forming in her eyes.

Harry tensed, holding Hope's hand in a painful death grip.  He was almost fearful as to what would come next.

"I've been stupid," she whispered, sinking to her knees.

No one made any movement to help her up.

"Please forgive me," Hermione murmured, tilting her head.  Her chocolate eyes shone brightly with tears.  "I'm not sure how you can, but…I'm so sorry!  I didn't mean for it to happen like this—"

Harry interrupted her pleading voice.  "Just tell us, dammit," he hissed harshly, his green eyes hardening.  His icy cold voice was foreign, even to him.  Even Draco would be proud…the bloody prat.

Hermione almost whimpered at the demand.  She bit her lip.  "You're not going to like it," was all she whispered, before passing out.

**A/N:** Sorry it took me so long to update!  But floppy disks are evil, and wouldn't let me save…finally I found a good one.  So here we are!

Once more, I'd like to thank all the beautiful people reviewing and reading.  You guys rule, and I love the guesswork on the reviewer's parts.  They are interesting to read how people think my twisted mind works.  I think only one reviewer got it right, but I'm not positive.

Just to explain one last time: Hermione is Hope Woods.  Hope Woods and Hope Potter are not the same people.  They are completely different witches.  So no, Hermione is not Harry's wife.  And, people think Hope Woods and Kyle Thompson are engaged—they're not.  It's just a ploy to get Draco off her back…lol, don't ask, I'm twisted.

As usual, I hope you guys really liked it, and I thrive on reviews!!!

[Submitted: August 11, 2003]


	7. Out in the Open

**_Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco. She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust._**

**_Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him. He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart._**

As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life. A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember.

**_Disclaimer_:** Did you see the VMAs?  Or lucky enough to see Justified/Stripped (*cough* like me *cough*)?  Yea…well…Justin is the only one I wanna own.  Sadly, I own not one bit of him, and I only own Carrie, Kyle, and both Hopes in my story.

**_Last time:_**

**_[Draco]_**

_Draco let out a low growl. How dare he insult his late mother!_

The demanding son of a bitch,_ Draco thought hatefully_. I absolutely refuse to do anything of the sort! I'm a grown wizard for Merlin's sake!

There was a knock on the door, and Draco quickly shoved the damned letter into his pocket. "Yes?" he called through the door.

_"It's Kyle. Dinner's ready," Kyle yelled. In a more sarcastic tone, he added, "So if his majesty would kindly grant us with his presence…"_

_Draco glared at the direction of the door, grumbling. " '_If his majesty would kindly grant us…_' " he mimicked, flinging it open. "I'll grant you with my fist in your face…"___

**_[Hermione]_**

_"I've been stupid," she whispered, sinking to her knees._

_No one made any movement to help her up._

_"Please forgive me," Hermione murmured, tilting her head. Her chocolate eyes shone brightly with tears. "I'm not sure how you can, but…I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for it to happen like this—"_

_Harry interrupted her pleading voice. "Just tell us, dammit," he hissed harshly, his green eyes hardening. His icy cold voice was foreign, even to him. Even Draco would be proud…the bloody prat._

_Hermione almost whimpered at the demand. She bit her lip. "You're not going to like it," was all she whispered, before passing out._

****

**Chapter Six: Out In the Open**

Ron sort of watched, feeling oddly unattached as Harry tried frantically to revive Hermione.  In a sort of dull voice, he calmly whispered, "_Ennervate," the spell that had been used on Winky as they were going to enter fourth year._

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and she glanced around dazedly.  If he looked carefully enough, it almost looked like she wished they had just left her passed out.

Harry jumped back, ensuring that she hadn't noticed his concern.  The frigid look he had been sporting before was back on his face, as he gripped Hope's waist firmly.

"Did I pass out?" Hermione croaked weakly.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

Under any other circumstances, Ron would have been sympathetic to her, and insisted she go home, and tell them when she was better.  Instead, he whipped out a hunk of chocolate and shoved it in her direction.  "Eat it," he commanded, his sapphire eyes stern.

Hermione ate it slowly, a seemingly permanent frown etched on her face.  "I'm sorry," she whispered again, looking up at them with dull cinnamon eyes.

"Just stop being cryptic, and explain yourself," Harry ordered sharply.  "We're all anxious to know."

She glanced over at him, looking hurt.  "I know.  I'm really—"

"Sorry, we know," he interrupted, glaring.  "Get on with it."

Ron snuck a glance at Hope, and found that she was utterly shocked at how icily Harry was treating his best friend.  Truth be told, he was surprised, too.

Hermione gazed down at the carpet, chewing on her bottom lip, trying to think of how to phrase it.

Ron had a vague idea of what she was going to say, and desperately wanted her to not say anything.  He wanted to ignore the big, fat ugly truth that was about to stare him in the face.

It was surreal to him, as she looked back up, and opened her mouth to speak.  He wished he could press stop, and rewind.  This day was going horribly wrong.

"Malfoy and I…"

Ron knew it was hard for her to say.  He did, really.  He was really, truly proud that she had the guts to admit it.  He just didn't want to deal with it right now.  Not now, after he life had begun to regain its normality.

"I don't want to hear this," he grumbled, red-faced, as he jumped up, and ran out the door.

At the very least, Ron was semi-proud that he hadn't pushed her on the way out.  He knew where he was going now, and he knew it was going to be bad.  Hopefully Hermione didn't know where he planned on going.

~*~

Hermione looked up feebly at Harry, her eyes apologetic.  "I've got to stop him before he does something stupid," she murmured, rushing to follow him.  "I promise I'll explain."

She didn't even wait for Harry to nod, she just ran straight out the door.  "RON!" she hollered, cupping her mouth.

Hermione ran down the hall, out the door, and stopped to spin around.  This wasn't a muggle movie.  Ron didn't run away.  He apparated to wherever it was he planned on going.

She thought she knew where he was going, but secretly prayed he wasn't that thick, to try and go…

Shaking her head, she concentrated on the tall, enormous, cold building, and disappeared with a _Crack!_

Stumbling on the sidewalk leading up to the Manor, Hermione frowned, spotting the redhead.  He _was_ that stupid.

~*~

"Ron, no!" he heard a voice hiss from the bushes.

He whirled around, glaring at Hermione.  "If you think I'd let Malfoy get away with any sort of funny business with you, you're off your rocker!  Who _knows_ what he did to you!" Ron exclaimed in a hushed voice, glancing up at the Malfoy Manor.

"Ron, please.  Come back to Harry's.  Don't be stupid," Hermione pleaded, staring hopefully.  "He's not even there!"

He felt intellectually insulted by Hermione.  "Just because you were Head Girl, and Top Student along with Draco, doesn't mean you can insult my intelligence!" he growled, rolling up the sleeves of his scarlet robe.

"Ron, no, I didn't mean—"

"'Irrational Ron.  He's always storming through, never thinking twice.  He's so thick'," Ron mimicked harshly.  "I'm _not_ an idiot!"

She tugged frantically at his robes.  "Please, just come back.  Draco's not even there.  Please."

He made the stupid mistake of looking into her pleading eyes, and groaned.  "Fine.  But no more stalling on your part!  I want to hear it from you, dammit!"

"Yes, yes, of course," Hermione promised, whirling around the grounds.  "We need to go, _now."_

With that, she apparated back to Harry's, and Ron was very tempted to go on up to the manor anyway.

But with a _crack!_ and a tug at his insides, Ron was facing Harry, who was glaring daggers at Hermione.

"I slept with Malfoy.  There," she blurted suddenly, sending a weak grin towards Ron.  "I didn't stall…"

"I _can't_ believe you slept with _Malfoy!_" Harry boomed, causing them to cringe.  "Did it not occur to you how dangerous that could be?!"

"No, Harry, it didn't!" Hermione yelled back, a little more confident now that everything was out.  "But then, reason never seemed to flow your way when it came to Cho, did it?"

Even though it was a serious issue, Ron had to hold back a snicker at the burn towards Harry.

His wife, Hope, looked wordlessly at her husband and Hermione.  "Cho?" she echoed, glaring at Harry.

"She's not important," he barked.  He paused, and realized his mistake, and grinned sheepishly at Hope.  "Sorry, love."  Then Harry turned serious again, turning on Hermione once more.  "Answer me this," he began.  "Because, bloody hell…so help you if you lie to me, Hermione," he warned.  "Did you and…that scum have a child?"

Ron's snickers fell abruptly silent.  It had never even occurred to him that she could have been impregnated because of her little romp in the sack.  _Please say no,_ his mind pleaded, as he closed his eyes.

He had to strain to hear the soft, "Yes," that emitted from Hermione, and his eyes flew open.

She looked guilty, but relieved to have the secret out at the same time.

He knew then, that things were not alright between the sacred Trio.  He knew they most likely never _would_ be alright.

~*~

Draco was rolling and unrolling Lucius' letter when Hope apparated suddenly into his room.

"Sorry," she whispered, closing her eyes.

It was rather evident that she wasn't in good shape, and had been crying.  But before Draco could so much as utter "Hello," she frowned and disapparated.

It caused him to frown to, and he dropped the letter.  He walked towards the door, opening it slowly.

Kyle was probably still in his study, and he was the only other person in the house she would ever go to talk to.

So with that deduction in mind, Draco stealthily crept over to the general area Kyle had shown his study to be in.  He figured, if he got close enough, he would hear voices, and then he'd know.

He felt triumphant when he had ducked next to a portrait, and heard a muffled feminine voice.

So Draco, though figuring it wasn't very wise, murmured the spell that allowed people to hear through walls.

"Prat," he hissed, after discovering Kyle had put a barrier around the place.

_I wonder what's going on with Hope.  Is she ok?_ Draco wondered, backing away from the hall.  He refused to be caught.

~*~

Kyle was speechless, and had no idea what to say when Hermione—or rather, Hope—showed up next to his bookshelf with great, big tears in her fake yet vibrant green eyes.

"Is everything ok?" he asked softly, rooted to the spot.

"No," Hermione moaned, falling back onto a loveseat.  "It's not.  Everything went horrifically wrong, and they hate me."

"They don't _hate_ you," he assured her, sitting next to her.  He glanced around almost suspiciously, and then put up a silent barrier in case anyone got any funny ideas.

"But they do," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut tight.  "They'll never forgive me, and—"

"I've always thought Harry and Ron were great big gits, anyway," Kyle tried, rubbing her back.  "They always get overly pissed off, and it takes them forever to make up with the person they fought with."

"I do it, too," Hermione protested.

"No, you do it to get the satisfaction of seeing how creative they get with apologies.  They do it because they're stupid."

"So I'm spiteful?" she laughed.

Kyle grinned, but nevertheless answered, "No…just…manipulative."

"Oh, that's so much better, Thompson.  You're making me sound like Malfoy!" she whined, pouting.  "I'm nothing like him.

Although he knew she wanted to be cheered up, he couldn't help himself.  "Oh?" he asked, gesturing towards her.  "So you wouldn't call yourself conniving?  You're masquerading as a strange witch, just to be with him, Hermione!" he exclaimed, standing up.  "You're guilting me into helping you…that's pretty Malfoy of you."

Hermione glared at him.  "Even so!  I can't help it if the bloody prat rubbed off on me!  I used to be an innocent!  You know that."

He nodded.  "Right.  Blame Draco for corrupting you," Kyle offered, the entire sentence dripping thickly with sarcasm.

She nodded enthusiastically.  "You're exactly right.  Draco Malfoy tainted me, and he is to blame for my twisted corruption."

He stared at her.  "I was being sarcastic.  Hermione…"

Hermione glanced up at him innocently, waiting for what he was going to say next with wide-eyes.

Kyle shook his head.  "Forget it.  So, tell me what those stupid arses did, huh?"

She sighed, and looked extremely depressed.  There was an internal battle waging in her mind, but Kyle knew she would feel better if she let it off her chest.

~*~

Hermione inhaled, ready to relive the experience again, flinching at the memory of Harry's cold, glacial green eyes.

It was so vivid, and she instantly felt like a huge drama queen.  Worse things happened every day.

_Like getting pregnant at 17,_ she thought bitterly. _ That was bloody brilliant._

Kyle looked at her expectantly, encouraging her with warm sapphire eyes.  He gave a small, reassuring smile.  "I cast a silencing spell," he reminded her.

Hermione nodded, biting her lip.  "I know.  I'm just…a little shaken with how horrifically horrible my two _best friends took the news."_

Kyle looked a little guilty, before admitting, "Well…you _did_ keep it a secret for around five years.  I wouldn't exactly blame—"

"Wouldn't blame them?" Hermione finished angrily, her fake emerald eyes flashing fiercely.  "Wouldn't blame them for turning their back on years and years of friendship?  Not _trying to understand my position?  Not comprehend that _Draco Malfoy…TRICKED _me into feeling for him?!" she demanded hysterically, her eyes watering._

"Calm down!  I'm just saying.  From their point of view…I mean, come on, Mione.  How would you feel if Harry never told you about James?" he reasoned.

She felt immediately guilty for getting angry so quickly.  "But…at least I had reason," she argued weakly.

"Not exactly."

"Well!  It's not like I would be upset at Harry for getting the _real Hope pregnant!  She's the essence of good!" Hermione protested, not liking the scenario at all._

"But what if it were…Pansy, for good measure?  You hate her."

"Kyle, really.  I don't see—"

"Just think about it," Kyle interrupted.  "How would you feel after trusting him since you were eleven…and he kept something as huge as a relationship with your enemy number one—_two_—" he amended quickly, "and a baby?"

Hermione glanced down, secretly hating Kyle for being the rational person she had prided herself in being.  "I'd hate it," she admitted grudgingly.

"Give them a few weeks," he advised.  "And tell me exactly what happened."

"Fine," she conceded, knowing he wasn't giving it up.  "After Ron had finally showed up I—"

"Mione, do you think you could change back into your normal self?  It's a bit unsettling to be discussing this with Hope, my _fiancée_, rather than Hermione, one of my closest friends," Kyle added, smirking good-naturedly.

Hermione giggled a little, feeling a bit strangely relieved.  "I don't blame you," she said, lifting her vial, and taking a small, ungenerous sip.

She cleared her throat, waiting momentarily for her features to be back to normal.  "I think Lou Ann will be a bit upset at me for making her work so late…" Hermione mused out loud in her regular voice, smiling.  "Carrie will hate me for sure."

"Carrie won't _hate_ you," Kyle corrected.  "She'll be dead asleep at—" he paused to check the time, "ten at night."

Hermione winced.  "I feel like I'm killing a teenager's social hours on a weekend night."

"She'll get over it when you pay her with a bonus."

She grinned sheepishly.  "Anyway, I stalled a bit with small talk.  It ended up turning against me," Hermione scowled, remembering Harry's question.  "So I just went to the bathroom for a few minutes."

"Do I want to know why?"

"Not really," Hermione laughed, staring straight ahead.  "I found a letter in the trash can," she added softly, her eyes glazing over.

"You snooped through the trash?" Kyle asked increduously.

"It was from Draco.  I was confused at first," she admitted, suddenly taking interest in her linked hands.  "It was addressed to Hope, who for a moment, I thought meant Hope Potter.  But it was for me.  He apologized," Hermione added in a wistful tone.

"That was nice," Kyle retorted dryly.  "I'd sure hope that prat apologized."

"It was heartfelt!" she argued defensively.  "It was nice."

"…But it was for Hope, not Hermione," he said aloud, voicing her unspoken thoughts.  "And that upset you."

"A little," she recognized.  "But, I mean, why would he write some letter to me?  He just slept with me and dumped me…I'm no different than any other nameless face he's had sex with.  Like I'm special," Hermione scoffed, her soft brown eyes conveying hurt.

She saw Kyle's eyes twinkle a bit mischievously but he said nothing on that fact.

"But you _are_ special.  You _are different," he replied.  "Draco sees that.  He just refuses to admit it to himself, much less anyone else.  Don't be put off by this Slytherin tough guy façade we all put up," Kyle offered, thankfully tossing in some light humor._

"Well, that letter was quite a bit of an icebreaker," Hermione continued, looking a bit brighter.  "And they didn't really grasp it when I explained everything."

"_I_ still don't grasp it," he shot back.  "I'd be surprised if any of them understood even if you spelled it out for them."

"I showed them," she defended, covering her vial protectively with her hand.  "_Then they understood.  I started to tell them, but I was so nervous!  I actually fainted."_

"You fainted?" Kyle repeated, eyes widening.  "Are you ok?"

"Ron forced me to eat some chocolate," Hermione waved him off dismissively.  "I kept apologizing.  Harry was really upset," she reflected, remembering his icy, unfeeling eyes again.  "He was very cold, and rough.  Harry was the one to force it out of me."

"Force?  Did he touch you?  I swear to God, I always thought he was a good for nothing—"

"He didn't hurt me," Hermione interrupted, smiling wryly.  "Ron freaked out before I could say anything.  He apparated out, and it turned out to be to the Malfoy Manor.  He said he wouldn't let Draco get away with it.  I hadn't even said a word."

"Well, at least he still cares," Kyle offered, looking a little uplifted.  "That's definitely a good sign, Hermione."

"It took some convincing, but I got him back at Harry's.  Then I blurted out that Malfoy and I were…involved."

"How tactful," he replied sarcastically.

"Harry started yelling.  He pretty much called me an idiot, and I got mad…I more or less insulted his irrational behavior when he was lovesick over Cho," Hermione continued, a ghost of a smile on her face.  "His wife didn't take to well to that…"

"I'd imagine not," Kyle chuckled, leaning forward.

"He asked if we conceived a child."  She blinked.  "I told him I did.  Everything fell apart!  I just…I left."

"Never a better time.  Hermione…you always had a flair for the dramatics."

"Hey," Hermione protested, crossing her arms.  "I…well, what more could I do?  Harry looked like it took all of his physical and mental strength not to _Avada_ me on the spot!"

"You sure pick the greatest people," he retorted sardonically, with a smirk.  "Thank _Merlin you have me."_

"Shut up," she scolded weakly, tossing back her combination of wavy and curly chestnut hair.  "Just wait until _you_ have a fallout.  I can't wait to mock you like this."

"But I never got pregnant at 17 with my enemy," Kyle pointed out teasingly.

"Merlin, let's hope not," Hermione scoffed, her eyes almost dancing.

~*~

Lucius swept through the manor, mentally betting on which way Draco would go.

He figured the boy would be rebellious, and just tell him to 'sod off', which would leave him with no choice but to fetch him forcefully.

Lucius remembered the filthy mudblood standing with dirt-poor Weasley on his doorstep, pleading silently.

He needed to know what business that bitch had at his house.  And that wizard slime.  If it had _anything to do with Draco's…tryst with her, he'd kill Draco.  Son or not._

He debated on how to confuse his son the most, and finally settled on telling Draco that the '_love of his life_' was standing at their steps.  That would bring the boy running home, to ensure she was safe.

Disgusting.

~*~

Draco quickly scanned over the new letter Lucius had just sent him with a pained sort of feeling in his chest, and squeezing the air out of his lungs.

_Draco,_

_Would you care to tell me what your mudblood bitch was doing standing on our doorsteps, tainting out manor…with her filthy Weasley friend?_

_I'm sure she'd love to talk to you, so hurry home._

_--L.H.M._

It was short, sweet, and to the point.  It was mocking.

Was he serious?  Did he really have Granger locked up somewhere in the dungeons like he had insinuated in the letter?

Draco desperately weighed his options, feeling like this was a trap.  But could he risk it?

He finally decided to go downstairs and tell Kyle he was going home for a bit.  At least _someone would be happy…_

By the time Draco got there, he realized, with a push of his hands through his rumpled hair, that Hope was still conversing in _private with Kyle._

He felt guilty, but once the unlocking spell finally popped into his mind, he unlocked the room, and strode in abruptly, an apologetic look on his face.  "I'm really sorry, Hope, Thompson, but I had to interrupt.  I just wanted to say—"

The words died from Draco's mouth as his silver eyes looked up from the floor to Kyle and…Hermione Granger herself.

He was rendered speechless, and Kyle looked furious.  Hermione just looked meek and ashamed.

Finally regaining composure, but still slightly puzzled, he addressed her coolly, "Granger.  What exactly are _you doing here?"_

**A/N:** I'm so brilliant it surprises me sometimes.  Do you guys have any _idea_ how long I've been waiting to write this???  Hehe!  So the question I shall leave you with is: _What is Draco thinking right about now?_

So, again, thanks to all my reviewers, whom I love.  The encouragement has meant more than you could ever know!  If you feel like reading something new I wrote, there's a new story I have (it's in my profile) called _Night Stalker_.  I'll let you figure that out.

Um…feel free to review calling me an evil whore, for having it end like that.  Or be nice, and just curse me for life.  I hope everyone liked that chapter!  I was listening to a combination of Justin Timberlake and Brandy (some Christina Aguilera)…

[Submitted: August 30, 2003]


	8. I'm a WHAT?

**_Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco. She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust._**

**_Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him. He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart._**

**_As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life. A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember._**

**Last Time:**

_[Hermione]_

_"Harry started yelling. He pretty much called me an idiot, and I got mad…I more or less insulted his irrational behavior when he was lovesick over Cho," Hermione continued, a ghost of a smile on her face. "His wife didn't take to well to that…"_

_"I'd imagine not," Kyle chuckled, leaning forward._

_"He asked if we conceived a child." She blinked. "I told him I did. Everything fell apart! I just…I left."_

_"Never a better time. Hermione…you always had a flair for the dramatics."_

_"Hey," Hermione protested, crossing her arms. "I…well, what more could I do? Harry looked like it took all of his physical and mental strength not to _Avada_ me on the spot!"_

_"You sure pick the greatest people," he retorted sardonically, with a smirk. "Thank _Merlin_ you have me."_

_"Shut up," she scolded weakly, tossing back her combination of wavy and curly chestnut hair. "Just wait until you have a fallout. I can't wait to mock you like this."_

_"But I never got pregnant at 17 with my enemy," Kyle pointed out teasingly._

_"Merlin, let's hope not," Hermione scoffed, her eyes almost dancing._

_[Draco]_

_He finally decided to go downstairs and tell Kyle he was going home for a bit. At least _someone_ would be happy…_

_By the time Draco got there, he realized, with a push of his hands through his rumpled hair, that Hope was still conversing in _private_ with Kyle._

_He felt guilty, but once the unlocking spell finally popped into his mind, he unlocked the room, and strode in abruptly, an apologetic look on his face. "I'm really sorry, Hope, Thompson, but I had to interrupt. I just wanted to say—"_

_The words died from Draco's mouth as his silver eyes looked up from the floor to Kyle and…Hermione Granger herself._

_He was rendered speechless, and Kyle looked furious. Hermione just looked meek and ashamed._

_Finally regaining composure, but still slightly puzzled, he addressed her coolly, "Granger. What exactly are _you_ doing here?"_

**_Disclaimer:_** I own not a thing but random people I throw in, Harry's wife, Carrie, blah and blah, and also the plot (sorta).  If I could, I would, and I'd own Justin.  Of course, lol.

**Chapter Seven: I'm A..._What?_**

Draco felt awful when he saw her face look terrified, and she said nothing in response.  Just simply…opened and closed her mouth in disbelief, as though she had been caught.

"She's _talking_ to me," Kyle answered curtly, boring hateful holes into Draco with his eyes.  "And if you don't mind, it's rather private."

"Where's Hope?" he demanded, forgetting completely about his father's letter.  "She was just here a while ago…"

Hermione's mouth flapped open again helplessly, and wordlessly.  She squeaked with fear, her eyebrows creasing.

Honestly, he had never seen her so frightened.  "And just what is _your problem?" he asked, forced disgust buried in his voice.  "You're absolutely disgusting, the frightened way you're acting.  I ditched you—deal with it," Draco finished coldly, mentally kicking himself._

Hermione's big, virtuous cinnamon eyes filled with tears and she started crying loudly, sinking into a chair.

_"Pathetic,_" Draco itched to say, to make it seem even more like he had no leftover feelings for her.  The murderous glare Kyle was sending him was enough.

"GET _OUT_!" he yelled, approaching Draco quickly.  "And no one buys this 'tough guy' act!  Just admit you love her, and get over it," Kyle sneered, pushing him out.  "Otherwise, stay the hell out."

With that, a door slammed in Draco's face, and that was that.

If nothing else, a huge dilemma was solved.  Hermione was nowhere near the evil clutches of the icier Lucius Malfoy.  Which was good.

~*~

"I told you," Hermione whimpered to Kyle, who was rubbing her upper back reassuringly.  "I told you he doesn't care about me!" she sobbed.

"He's a git," Kyle spat automatically, wishing Draco hadn't been a complete arse.  "He knows nothing."

"Gods!" she hissed.  "How would he treat his own _illegitimate _daughter, if this is the way he treats me?" she asked harshly, squeezing her teary eyes shut.

"Don't say that," he scolded.  "And even though I hate Draco with a passion, I imagine he'd love his daughter no matter what, the way he loves you."

Hermione scorned the thought.  "If that's the way he'd treat Carrie, I'd hex him.  He's never coming anywhere near her," she vowed solemnly.  "I don't need her to be exposed to that kind of iciness."

"Living with a man like Lucius, I think Draco would try his damned hardest to love her better.  Maybe…if you told him…oh bloody hell, don't listen to me," Kyle sneered at himself.  "I'm crazy.  I have no idea how he'd react."

She breathed in deeply, feeling calm course over her body once more.  "I love Carrie to pieces, and wish she had a father in her life…but I would never want Draco as her father.  Just being _raised by a man of Lucius' stature, and emotional depth…I think that would make him prone to acting the same way."_

Kyle said nothing to rebut her statement, but simply raised his eyebrows questioningly.  "Is that so?"

Hermione nodded firmly, not letting herself think any other way.  He had hurt her, so what made Carrie any different?

_The fact that's she's a Malfoy.  That she's his daughter, legit or not.  She _belongs _to him, his gene pool,_ her subconscious argued without her consent.

Hermione's mouth opened to a tiny _'o' as she thought of it, and began to doubt herself.  Surely, there was __some shred of humanity in the man she had loved…_

"Mione?" Kyle burst in, waving his hand slowly in front of her eyes.  "What are you thinking about?"

She smiled at him briefly, before dismissing his question with a shake of her head nonchalantly.  "Nothing important," she answered listlessly.  "Just… contemplating, I guess."

Kyle nodded, showing he understood.  "If you want my advice—" he paused to see her expression before continuing, "I'd say give him a chance.  I'm not saying for him, or even for you.  Give Draco a chance for your _daughter.  One of my oldest friends grew up without a father, and it really hurt her."_

Hermione took a second to mull this over.  "I—I can't," she protested feebly.  "I won't do that to her.  I won't."

He glanced at her unsurely, his mouth in a thin, tight line.  "Fine.  I'm not trying to run your life.  Just remember, all things will blow up right in your face, Mione.  Secrets don't stay that way for long.  You were lucky to keep the whole thing from Ron and Harry for so long."

The two names caused Hermione to flinch.  "I really need to go now.  Lou Ann will probably near kill me, overtime pay or not."

Without another word, or waiting for his reply, she apparated out, arriving at her home with a slight stumble.

"Lou Ann, I'm so sorry, hon," Hermione breathed, staring intently at the cross girl.  "I didn't expect it to last so long."

Lou Ann looked like she wanted to snap back, but instead said, "It's ok, Ms. Granger," in a polite voice that was obviously forced.

"Yes, well, I'll pay you extra, don't you worry," she insisted, digging through her bag for more money.  "I can't tell you how sorry I am, but tonight was really important…"

~*~

Draco's eyes flew open, as the sun harshly bathed over the room.  "Bloody hell…" he murmured, rolling over to his side.  "This is so ridiculous.  Can't a man sleep in peace without the sun disrupting him?  Is that really too much to ask?"

The night before's event flashed through his mind, and he squeezed his eyes tighter, as if the images would disappear.

He groaned, roughly shoving a pillow over his head.  That didn't help.  He burrowed in deeper.  That didn't help either.  Nothing did.

Finally, beaten, he got out of bed grumbling darkly the entire time.  Stupid sun.  Stupid Hermione.  Stupid Father.  Stupid everyone.

Draco was highly tempted to just stay in his navy blue boxers all day, but grudgingly threw on an enormous robe, and fastened it, to hide his half-naked body.  It was breakfast time, but maybe no one would be there.

Or he could just skip it entirely.  It wasn't as if he were that hungry anyway.  Just the thought of the look on Hermione's face made him feel sick.

_Insanity.  That's what this is!  Not love, not even lust.  Insanity,_ Draco thought bitterly, trudging slowly down the stairs.

Upon his arrival at the door to the table, he straightened up, and sauntered in cockily, tossing back his shaggy hair.

"What's to eat?" he asked almost rudely, sitting down without glancing up.  "I'm starved," he lied.

When there was no answer, Draco looked up to see only one person seated across from him.

It was Hope, with a vial in her hand.  It was raised to her lips, and it looked like she had just drank some.  It looked like she was guilty.

"Is that poison?" he asked stupidly.

She didn't answer.  She sat there, looking like a deer caught in headlights.  Slowly, he realized why she was so stark quiet.

Her dirty blonde hair was rapidly changing into the familiar chestnut curls, and her vivid emerald eyes turned into a bright almond color.

It was Hermione.

Draco was overcome with shock, and searched for something to say.  "Well, that was rather dumb of you," he drawled lazily.  "If you've been taking a potion to be some random witch, why would you—"

"Just shut up," Hermione hissed, her eyes stony.  "It was nothing but a stupid mistake.  I was just getting really tired of seeing that _stupid_ blonde hair."

"So find a bathroom," he replied coolly.

He was dying to ask what made her go to the trouble of pretending to be 'Hope', when it occurred to him that Hope could be using a Polyjuice potion to be Hermione.

But he dismissed the idea.  Why would she bother?

Hermione made a sort of growling sound.  "I really don't need this," she hissed, and was gone with the blink of an eye.

Draco _wouldn't_ let her go so easily, and followed her, hoping that just concentrating firmly on the words 'Hermione Granger's house' with get him there.  It had happened before, if he was desperate enough.

He grinned, when he saw himself inside her house, or at least what he perceived to be her house.

There she was, in the hallway, looking furious.  "Go _away_!" she murmured harshly, but looking fearful.

An old woman left a room from inside the hallway, smiling kindly.  "It wasn't a problem, dear.  You know I'd be happy to watch—"

Hermione cut her off.  "Thank you, Doris.  Um, I'll call you, ok?  Or maybe I'll just walk over…"

Doris looked up, seeing Draco standing there, mildly confused.  She nodded perceptively, a slight grin on her face.  "You do that."

Draco felt a cold feeling sweep through his stomach as the woman left.  "Watch what?" he asked when the door eased shut.

Hermione frowned, pursing her lips.  "None of your business."

She made a move to continue on in the hall, but he ran faster.  He came to a halt in front of her, flinging his hands to brace the wall.

"Watch _what_?" Draco growled dangerously.

Hermione raised her head defiantly.  "You think you can just waltz into my life five years later, and just ask whatever you feel like?"

"Let's get things straight here.  _You _waltzed into _my_ life the day you concocted some of that weird shit in your vial."

She responded with a roll of her eyes.

"I think we need to discuss some things," he said resolutely.  "And I won't leave until we do."

"There's a couch in that room right there," Hermione replied stiffly, ducking into a room quickly.

He gazed at her suspiciously, but the look she gave him silenced him.  "Fine."

"So," Hermione began as she eased the door shut, her posture rigid, suggesting she'd rather slit her wrists than talk to him.  "Let's talk."

~*~

Harry stared open-mouthed at his wife, his green eyes wide with surprise.  "You want me to _what_?!"

"Apologize," Hope answered firmly, crossing her arms.  "I don't like the way you treated Hermione at all."

"She _lied_ to us!  Why don't you dislike the way _she treated __us?  Since when am I a criminal?" he demanded sharply, glaring from the corner of his eye._

"Since you started acting like that!" she replied exasperatedly.  "You didn't even stop to think—did you even _see_ the shattered look on Hermione's face when you talked so coldly, unfeelingly?"

Harry, for a moment, was speechless.  Finally, he argued, "Don't you know how much honesty means to me?"

She gave a sort of reassuring smile, and nodded.  "All I'm asking you to do is be the bigger person, and apologize.  It's that easy."

His lively green eyes flashed.  "Easy enough for _you to say.  I didn't do anything wrong," he insisted stubbornly.  "Hermione did."_

Hope looked like she was fighting back a low growl of frustration, and she sighed.  "Harry, let me put it to you this way.  If you don't do what I ask, I will do nothing you ask."

"Nothing?" Harry repeated, knowing exactly what her hidden meaning was.  "_Nothing at all?"_

"Nothing," she reiterated firmly, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

He narrowed his eyes.  "That's bribery."

"I know, honey," she chirped, beaming.  "That's what I'm best at."

Harry made a hissing sound, and finally agreed.  "You are so much more manipulative than I thought."

Hope dropped all flirtatious, or joking manners.  In a completely serious voice, she added, "Darling, think about the consequences.  Don't you want to meet your best friend's daughter?  Wouldn't you like to talk to the girl?"

He looked at her dead-on, silent.

She sighed again, in utter frustration.  "Ok…how would you feel if James had to grow up without his father?  If I were raising him by myself?  Wouldn't you want _some_ sort of father figure in his life?"

"That would never happen, because I take _responsibility for my children," Harry answered stonily.  "Unlike Malfoy, I take pride in fulfilling my duties as a father."_

"_If_ it happened!  I can understand how Hermione felt, Harry!  I don't condone it, but I understand.  Why can't you?"

"I simply can't."

"All because of Draco?  Basically, what you're telling me, sweetie, is that if the girl had been Ron's, you would have welcomed her with open arms," Hope inferred, feeling upset by his unfair judgement.

"Well, n-no," Harry answered defensively.  "But like I said, it would never—"

"_Work_ with me here, love!" she hissed.

"Fine.  Yes, are you happy?  I hate Draco Malfoy with all of my being, and I think Hermione was idiotic for messing around with him.  But no, I'm not judging the girl.  I pity her for having a scum like him for a dad."

_Now we're getting somewhere,_ Hope thought, satisfied.

"Apologize," she finished softly, looking him straight in his intense eyes.  "Please."

Harry sighed, and nodded.  "Alright, I will.  But I'd really like to wait until later today.  At least give me that."

Hope nodded, smiling happily at her husband.  "I love you, Harry Potter."

~*~

Hermione was mentally freaking out.  Draco was suspicious, and there was no way to avoid the topic of Carrie.  If only she were so lucky.

"Why did you do it?" she started, meeting his curious gray eyes.

They darkened at her question, and she could tell the word, 'Pass' was on the tip of his tongue.  Instead, he obviously felt it safer to play dumb.  "Do what?"

"Malfoy, just _what_ would we have to talk about other than our last year?" she demanded angrily, trying her best to hate him with every ounce of her soul.

"Oh, _that_," Draco drawled slowly, as if it had just hit him.  "Well, that was a very broad year."

"I did _not_ sit down to 'talk' for you to blatantly ignore my questions!" she half-shrieked in rage.  "So answer my question!"

"You mean sleep with you?  As I recall, it was with your consent, and you started it."

"_Started it_?!" Hermione yelped.  "You're delirious!  Aside from which, I wasn't talking about that.  I meant why would you sleep with me, and then leave me without so much as a word?"

Draco coolly leaned back, slouching in the chair disinterestedly.  His slightly darker blonde hair framed his face delicately, and his brilliant slate eyes flashed momentarily.  "I haven't the foggiest clue—"

"Malfoy," Hermione cut in firmly.

He sighed, and rolled his eyes.  "I didn't have a choice, ok?"

"No, _not_ ok!  I don't _understand, Draco!  You pursued me for the first few months, and then all of the sudden __boom!  You wanted nothing to do with me after you got what you wanted," she ranted, forcing herself not to cry._

"I would hardly call that pursuing."

Hermione's chest heaved with her deep breaths to calm herself.  "Draco, please.  Just explain to me why you just…deserted me."

"I didn't desert you!  If you'll recall, I tried to apologize throughout the year!" Draco growled, lurching forward.  "It's certainly not _my_ fault if you insist on being a stubborn _bitch_," he spat.

"It _is_!  I don't—I _can't comprehend why you would just…" Hermione trailed off, her almond eyes sort of getting a dull shine.  "No, wait, I think I get it."_

"Oh?  And what is it that you think you know about me?" Draco asked amusedly.  "I'm quite interested to hear what you could have possibly conjured up."

"You're a Malfoy.  Daddy dearest would have a fit, which would harm your Death Eater-In-Training position.  Aside from which, I think you're afraid."

"Afraid of _what_?" he challenged, his silver eyes narrowing fiercely.

"You're afraid of loving someone," Hermione answered, looking resolute.

Draco leaped off his seat, and stood right before her in two short steps.  "Afraid of loving someone, am I?" he hissed coldly, leaning towards her, his face before hers.  "Is _that what you think?"_

"Yes," she answered defiantly, taking in the utter hatred in his eyes.  She was sure he was getting his fair share.  "Otherwise, I'd say _prove it_, Malfoy.  I know you can't."

Draco's cheeks flushed almost adorably, a tinge of pink sweeping over them.  "Then, please, explain to me how I've lived these past five years, Hermione!" he screamed in her face, his silver eyes piercing.

Hermione had no answer, and was barely able to process the meaning of his statement, much less reply.

Then it happened.  The moment they had been waiting for…five _very long years.  It was rather explosive._

She wasn't sure who initiated the kiss that was long overdue, but it happened.  All she knew was that his face was dangerously close, as were his lips.

Hermione closed her eyes in anticipation, feeling his lips press gently against hers.  The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, unsure.  Then she was almost positive Draco got annoyed, and turned it electrifying.

He pushed his hands impatiently through her curly hair, letting his tongue steal into her mouth without much fight.  Hermione was almost dumbfounded, but managed to wind her hands tightly around his back, pulling him closer to her.  The kiss was delicious.

Finally, Draco had the sense to pull back, and stared her right in the eye.  "Care to answer that?" he asked cockily.

She stood, looking ridiculous with her mouth hanging open dumbly.  "Sod off," she answered breathlessly.

His eyes danced in a playful way she had never seen them.  "I can't this time," he growled in a low, gravelly voice.  "I won't let you get away again."

Hermione decided not to ruin the moment with another question for explanation as to his actions.  "What if I want to?"

Draco looked deathly solemn.  "Tell me something.  What did that night mean to you?"

_Now is my chance_.

Her mouth opened, but for a brief moment, nothing came out.  He had admitted to loving her, sure.  But…what would he do, knowing—

_Stop looking for excuses,_ she scolded.  _Just say it._

"It meant the world," Hermione began softly.  "You gave me the greatest joy of my entire life."

For a cocky second, he looked overly self-assured and smug.  She mentally urged him to understand.

"Wait…there's no way you'd compliment me like that…" he began slowly.  "So…what did that mean?"

She braced herself, and inhaled deeply.  What was the best way to phrase this for the unexpecting father?  "I…we…Draco, what I'm trying to say, I guess, is that we…" Hermione paused.  "Draco, you're a father," she finished, barely audible.

Ok, not the best way to put it.

Draco shoved back his shaggy blonde hair, his eyes wide and unsuspecting.  He stepped back slightly as he sputtered out, "I'm a—_what_?"

"A father," she repeated, letting it sink in.

**A/N:** So, I finally let Draco find out, _hurrah_!  It took until the end of this chapter, but hey!  I'm sorry I left you hanging for so long, but it was a nice place to end.  It was evil, a cliffie (have you guessed I like those?), left one of two options, and…it was perfect.  So let's see what happens next, huh?

Yes, I know, long time, no update.  The school year has just started, and I've been adjusting to it, with no time left to write _or_ update.  On top of it all, I have probably four new ideas that have been plaguing me.  One being a sequel to _Night Stalker_, and another being (gasp) Draco/Ginny.

Also, I probably rewrote some dialogue and stuff in this chapter three times, and I'm _still_ not happy, but you need an update, and I don't know what to do to make it better.

But I'm trying to get better, as I'm getting readjusted to actually having to do stuff during the week.  I already have some of Chapter 8 typed, and I'm working on _Mr. Wrong_, as well.  I have a four-day weekend (the hurricane coming being a reason for today)—no school, no work—which I'm hoping will be put to good use!

So, thanks so much for your patience, reviews, and time taken out of your day to read this.  It makes me really happy that you guys are enjoying my stories, and I haven't had a flame for any of my stories, even though some are so abysmal, lol.  Tis a bit odd, but I shan't complain!  Hope you enjoyed this newest, late addition!

[Submitted: September 18, 2003]


	9. Kiss It Good Bye

Summary: Hermione's life is left in pieces, all because of Draco. She finds herself lying often, betraying her friends' trust.

**_Draco meets a mysterious woman, who has a thing against him. He finds himself spending more time than he cares to stomach with Kyle Thompson—the only guy to ever win Hermione's heart._**

**_As for this mystery woman, well, there's a deeper meaning than Draco could ever comprehend as to why she's sneaking around, bent on being there at every turn of his life. A deeper meaning that she herself doesn't want to remember._**

**Last Time:**

_[Both]_

_Draco looked deathly solemn. "Tell me something. What did that night mean to you?"_

Now is my chance.

_Her mouth opened, but for a brief moment, nothing came out. He had admitted to loving her, sure. But…what would he do, knowing—_

Stop looking for excuses_, she scolded. _Just say it_._

_"It meant the world," Hermione began softly. "You gave me the greatest joy of my entire life."_

_For a cocky second, he looked overly self-assured and smug. She mentally urged him to understand._

_"Wait…there's no way you'd compliment me like that…" he began slowly. "So…what did that mean?"_

_She braced herself, and inhaled deeply. What was the best way to phrase this for the unexpecting father? "I…we…Draco, what I'm trying to say, I guess, is that we…" Hermione paused. "Draco, you're a father," she finished, barely audible._

_Ok, not the best way to put it._

_Draco shoved back his shaggy blonde hair, his eyes wide and unsuspecting. He stepped back slightly as he sputtered out, "I'm a—_what_?"_

_"A father," she repeated, letting it sink in._

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine, only the Hopes, Carrie, and Kyle!  Lol

**Chapter Eight: Kiss It Good Bye**

_Awful.  Horrific.  Guilty.  Shamed.  Unforgiving._

All these harsh words pounded through Harry's head as he flopped onto his couch.  He was finally understanding Hope's view, and could see in her deep eyes how much harm he had potentially caused to a great friendship.

How could he have been so…_cold?  Certainly, he was quick to jump to conclusions._

Anger was his way of dealing with things, Harry reasoned.  _When I'm stressed, or frustrated, I get mad.  I burst._

Inside, he knew it was no excuse.  But the rest of him waved off that realization and scribbled it off as such.

Finally, he hopped off, suddenly and decisively, heading for Hermione's.  An apology like this was just not something that could be held off.

_Hermione _is_ my best friend, after all.  She deserves my support…it's quite clear that Malfoy isn't aiming to help her any.  Ignoring her would be almost exactly like being Draco, Harry thought wisely._

A good point, which he was glad Hope hadn't thought of.  The low opinion she held of him was really a blow to the ego.

~*~

Draco saw red.  He knew that in some demented, twisted way they had just made up.  So why did she have to pull that?

Anger took over his body, and he was no longer in control of his words or actions.  The evil "Malfoy" side of him took over.

"So…_what_?  You thought that I shouldn't have the right to know this?  You didn't think I was _good enough to be a father?" he hissed demandingly.  "Please tell me why you've been _on my back_ about deserting you!  But…in an odd, funny twist of fate, it is _you_ who deserted __me."_

Hermione was taken aback, but quickly recovered.  "Oh?  And how exactly do you get an insane idea like _that_?"

"Think about it, Granger.  I may have 'cruelly left you', but _I knew nothing about a baby!  Don't you think I would've come running if I had a child?  Obviously, you think I'm some sort of bigger bastard than I figured you thought."_

"Boy, you sure do catch on quick," she snapped sarcastically.  "And here I was thinking you'd never get it."

"I _tried_ making things right, Hermione.  I attempted apologizing, explaining, begging, and pleading…" Draco listed, his silver eyes stormy with emotions.  "I tried to put back together the pieces that fell apart.  Which is _certainly_ more than I can say for you!"

"Is that it?" Hermione asked unbelievingly.  "You think you can fix a broken heart with apologies?  I hate to break it to you, Draco, but there are some things that a simple 'sorry' or money can't fix.  I'm not some cheap whore!"

Draco scowled, unable to believe they were having this fight.  "Give a man some credit!  I knew I was wrong.  Coming from me, an apology should be a life-altering experience!  Malfoys _don't apologize!  But I did, Hermione, because I knew I had screwed up big time."_

She scoffed.  "Don't be so full of yourself.  No amount of excuses in the world could get me to understand how you could do a thing like that."

"It wasn't as though we were _in love!  It was just sex!  It was a release from the sexual tension we had been feeling."_

_Completely _wrong thing to say.

Hermione's eyes grew hard.  "Just sex?  If it was just sex, then why are we fighting?  Why did you bother apologizing?  If it were _just sex, then Carrie should mean nothing to you!"_

_Heat of the moment,_ Draco protested internally.  _I got caught up in the heat of the moment!  Yes, at first, it was 'just sex'.  But…it turned out to be more than that._

He figured that maybe he should voice this, until he noticed Hermione shoving him out the door.

"Just get out!  Stay away from our child, stay away from me, stay away from my family, and stay away from _my friends_!" she screeched, tears streaming down her face.  "You just never _change_!  You'll always be the snotty Draco Malfoy!"

"Hermione, no—"

She paused foolishly, and stared blankly.  "What is it?"

"I want to see her," Draco insisted, moving her aside.  "I think I deserve that much."

"No," Hermione retorted.  "Don't come anywhere near my daughter."

He burst again.  It seemed like he couldn't manage to keep his temper around the one witch who broke down his walls.

"Oh, so Kyle Thompson is good enough to know about _my daughter?  Better yet—you planned on just marrying him, and __he could be her dad?  So…what?  Pass her off as his?  You think I wouldn't get suspicious?  I was never even going to find out, was I?  You were…" Draco paused, his eyes briefly flashing with hurt, and his voice cracked with his next words.  "…You were going to marry him, and never tell me.  Weren't you?"_

"GET OUT!" she shouted violently, lone tears streaming down her face.  "I don't want to hear it.  I don't _pity you," Hermione whispered, shoving him._

Draco bit his lip forlornly, and stumbled out the door.  There was no reasoning with her.

_Give her two days.  No, just give her one.  Just enough to think, and mentally picture my death over and over.  But not enough to think of moving away, and changing her identity,_ he rationed, staring at the door.

"I didn't even get to see my little girl," Draco whispered sadly, turning away.

~*~

Hermione slouched against the door she had just slammed, breathing hard.  Peeping out the hole, she scowled, seeing Draco standing there stubbornly.

_Go away,_ she mentally commanded wearily, eyeing the darkened hallway containing her daughter.

She realized suddenly that she had failed to correct Draco on the entire Kyle issue.  He had believed she was truly marrying him.

_Let him think it.  Maybe he'll have the sense to let go, and move far, far away like he should have five years ago,_ Hermione thought.

The doorbell rang not long after, and she groaned out loud.  "GO AWAY!" she screeched through the door.

_Didn't you get the hint?  I can't stand you; I don't know what I was thinking!_

"It's me," a muffled voice responded, sounding rather surprised.  "Er, I know I'm not really someone you want to see—"

Hermione flung the door open, 99% sure it wasn't Draco, by the defeated tone to the person's voice.

"—but I really need to talk to you," Harry finished softly, realizing she had opened the door.  "Hi."

She leaned against the doorframe, biting her lip.  "Hello," she whispered meekly, bracing herself.  "Look, I really don't need another lecture; nor am I in the mood.  So if that's what you came for, please go home, Harry."

Harry's eyes looked down at her pityingly as he shook his head.  "I'm sorry about yesterday…it's just a lot to take in."

Hermione looked at the floor in embarrassment, refusing to meet his eyes.  Scuffing her foot on the floor, she nodded.  "Don't apologize.  I suppose I deserved that.  After all, who keeps secrets from their best friends?"

"To be fair…you _did_ say you knew we would hate you.  I don't condone it," he added seriously, forcing her to make eye contact.  "But I can see where you came from."

She remained silent, contemplating his words.  Harry was always so nice, so forgiving.  She didn't deserve a friend like him, at all.  "Thank you."

It was a simple, noncommittal phrase that Hermione hoped didn't send out hopeful signals.  He could just as easily reject her friendship.

"So."

"So…" Hermione repeated, urging him on.

"Is everything ok between us?" Harry asked timidly, avoiding her eyes.  "I already know that—"

She couldn't stand it anymore.  She pulled him towards her, hugging him tightly in need of dire comfort.

Just the sturdy, safe, comfortable feeling of being in his arms made Hermione break down.  "I'm so sorry!" she wailed.

Harry pat her head awkwardly.  "Err, there, there."

She sobbed against him, falling apart in his own arms.  "He came by," Hermione choked out, rocking back and forth, forcing Harry with her.  "He came by, and he apologized."

~*~

"Well…isn't that good?" he asked slowly, assuming she meant Draco.

He could feel her shaking with tears.  "It should be, shouldn't it?" she whispered quietly.  "But I messed up, Harry.  I _messed up_."

"I hardly think that—"

"I was being selfish.  All I want is for Carrie to have her father, even if it _is him," Hermione began, wiping her tears.  "I pushed him away, Harry!  We had just made up, and I kept at it!  I…he…I let him think I was marrying Kyle."_

"That's doesn't quite qualify as messing—"

"I yelled at him.  I-I…he got so _angry_, Harry.  He said it was just sex.  I know he was only angry, but I—I pushed him out."

Harry stared at his fragile friend sternly.  "That's exactly what you _should have done.  Heat of the moment or not."_

"I did the wrong thing," Hermione insisted, inhaling shakily, rubbing her eyes.  "He wasn't thinking—"

"That's no excuse!" Harry yelled.  "I'm so sick of you acting like this!  He's not your _world.  Draco is not your only means of a father to your girl!"_

With his name finally being said, she sobered up a little.  "Up until now, Draco has been.  Harry—I didn't know whether or not you'd ever want to see me again."

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry assured her, grasping her hand.

He was irritated that _Draco Malfoy could reduce Hermione to this.  She was torn up, and her last entire five years had been nothing but a lie.  Even without trying, Draco was still a bully._

~*~

Draco leaned against the back of his door, with his jaw set.  "Hello, Father," he greeted stonily.

Lucius tossed aside his cane.  "So you just thought you could leave, did you?  You thought I wouldn't have anything to say in the matter?  This is _my manor, and you are __my son.  You spend _my_ money, and you bend to _my_ WISHES!" he roared, glaring harshly at Draco._

Draco stared coldly back, and shrugged.  "I was unaware that even past the age of 18, I was still your bitch, _Father_."

"Do you think you're funny?" his father demanded, commanding an elf forward to retrieve his cane.

"If I did, I'd be a comedian, wouldn't I?" Draco retorted, shrugging off his cloak.  "But I never said I was, so I'm not."

He was amazed Lucius hadn't threatened to hit him yet, or just blast him with a curse.  The man had miraculously found tolerance and patience.

"I didn't raise you to be such an insolent," Lucius sneered, his empty blue eyes flashing.  "Neither did your mother."

"Don't play the mother card, Father.  It doesn't work anymore."

Draco's father tilted his head, with an ugly, twisted smile on his face.  "You like to think you're nothing like me, don't you?" he asked abruptly.

"I don't think it," Draco answered roughly.  "I _know_ it."

"No, if anything, I'd say I'm a better father than you are."

Draco's fists balled up.  "What did you just say?" he hissed dangerously, his heart pounding furiously.

What did Lucius mean?  He was insane!  What could he _possibly_ know about anything?  He was completely clueless to so many things…

Lucius twirled his cane once before loftily answering, "At least I _knew_ you were created.  I was there for you, your entire life."

"Fat load of good that did anyone, Father," he ground out, wishing his wand was still handy.  He would've hexed the bastard to oblivion.

Unfazed, his father continued, "But what about _my son, who thinks he's a better person than I am?"  Lucius paused, pretending to ponder the question.  "No…my son makes a half-blooded baby.  And has __no idea about it."_

Draco's entire world froze.  "What are you talking about?"

"But it won't be a problem for long.  Because that Mudblood wants nothing more to do with you, does she, son?  No.  In fact, right this very moment, she's in the obnoxious arms of Potter and Weasley.  If I'm not mistaken," Lucius began, his crystal blue eyes twinkling with malice, "they're offering to help her take care of the squalling brat."

Draco distractedly and absent-mindedly ran a hand through his short hair.  His breathing was noticeably heavier, and he looked hurt.  No wonder Lucius let him have his moment.

_He'd never let me get away with it otherwise, _Draco thought.  _Not unless he had some enormous blow to issue to me._

"So what about it, son?  Whose the better father now?" he asked cruelly.

~*~

"How long have you known about this?" Draco asked him quickly.

Lucius granted his only son a small smile, feeling completely powerful.  It was as if he held Draco's emotions, heart, and future in the palm of his hand.

"Not much longer than Granger has known it," he replied coolly, glancing at his son with the utmost triumph.

"How?"

"Dumbledore can be _such a helpful man," Lucius mused aloud.  "I just simply asked if the bitch had been in for any sort of illness, because I had heard of your night with her, and wanted to make sure nothing had come from it._

"But imagine my surprise…when your Headmaster expressed to me that it was none of _my_ business, however, _yes_, I was a '_proud' grandfather.  He was always such a fool," Lucius exhaled.  "He knew full well we were going to have nothing to do with that child."_

" '_We_'?" Draco echoed, perfecting his cold glare even more.  "I wanted _everything_ to do with her!"

"Which is _precisely_," Lucius exclaimed, slamming his cane down on the floor, and sweeping towards his son, "why I didn't tell you!  It didn't take a _genius_ to figure out that the Mudblood wasn't going to say anything about it, either.  No, not after seeing you with Pansy."

"Me with…?" Draco trailed off, when his eyes began flashing.  "There _was another motive behind you forcing me to be with Pansy!  It would have been just as bad to have left her alone and been cold, but you needed…"_

"I had my suspicions," he granted.  "And if they were right, I had to make sure that Granger wanted nothing more to do with you.  Do you honestly think I would allow that half-breed to continue on my family?" Lucius asked in a dangerously calm whisper.

"Then in answer to your question, Father, _I'm still the better father.  Only a monster would—"_

He swiftly cut off his son's rants with a quick blow to the shoulder.  "But I never expected the Mudblood to still harbor unwanted feelings for you.  I never expected her to dare enter my house with Thompson.  It was a dangerous thing to do, Draco."

"I bet you feel disgusted that you hit on her then," Draco spat.

"If I had found her out," Lucius continued, "it wouldn't have been a good thing, needless to say.  She is a fool playing a fool's game.  Love is nothing but stupidity."

At the very least, he was pleased to see that his son wasn't protesting anything to that effect.

"I don't even understand why I need to be back here," Draco insisted, folding his arms angrily.  "I'm leaving."

"You are my only remaining heir, and like it or not…you _will_ stay here.  I won't have you leaving again.  I _refuse _to tolerate it."

"I _refuse_ to stay," Draco countered.  "So it seems that we're at a problem here.  Because I can and _will_ leave, Lucius."

"Leave, and kiss your entire fortune good bye," Lucius threatened.

"As long as I don't have to kiss _you good bye."_

**A/N:** Ok, so some of it was iffy…but yeah.  I'm sorry I took so long, feel free to stone me in your reviews and whatnot.  Or, you know, you could look on the upside, and give me a cookie for my long overdue update.  ^_^

And yes, a bit shorter than usual, but I just wanted to get this out.  Be proud, I'm updating every last one of my stories!!  Hehe, even Restless Dragon, Icy Queen!  IMAGINE!

So as always, read, review, enjoy.  And don't hesitate to check out my other stories.

[Submitted: December 7, 2003]


	10. The Only One Worth Your Tears…

**Chapter Nine: The Only One Worth Your Tears…**

Ron was, at the very least, glad that the previous tension had evaporated far quicker than he had estimated…by about a decade.

It seemed too easy for them, especially because they simply _never_ made up this quickly.  But apparently, a friend in dire need of another sped up the forgiveness period.

Of course, he was still angry that she hadn't told them, even though he knew that they still would have been angry.  As overly protective friends, it was their prerogative.  Five years of betrayal made it far worse, and it was a festering jealousy that rested in his heart as he heard her out.

"Only Kyle knew.  He had to know; if I was going to…carry out the plan I was considering.  Of course, you know the basics to that," Hermione smiled.  "It's nothing short of shameful now."

"'Mione, don't be ashamed…be embarrassed," Ron joked lightly, offering a lopsided grin.

She rewarded him with a genuine, grateful smile.  "Don't worry, I am.  It's not an easy thing to admit; loving him.  Especially the lengths I went to just to _be_ with him."

"I still don't quite understand that, Mione," Harry voiced, grabbing her attention.  "Just to be with him…and he didn't even know who you were."

Ron watched her shift, slightly uncomfortable.  "I wanted to know if five years had changed him any.  I wanted Carrie to finally have the father she deserves.  It was mostly innocent," Hermione explained, her brown eyes shining faintly with a dreamy expression.

He had a hunch that there was more to the story, but didn't push the matter.  Besides, from what he understood, the "relationship" was more or less terminated.

"No harm in that," Ron offered cheerily, rising off his seat.  "I'm thirsty, do you mind?"

She shook her head.

"Anyone want anything while I'm up?"

Harry requested a glass of water, and Hermione shook her head politely.

~*~

Harry watched Ron exit the room, and he leaned into Hermione.

"What aren't you saying to us?" he asked a bit too perceptively for her taste.  "No lies, Hermione.  Has he said something?  Was there some other motivation?"

"If it's alright with you Harry," she began a bit brusquely, "I'd rather not relive any experiences involving Draco.  As for the past, it's going to stay there."

He brushed back his dark, mussed hair, and closed his vibrant emerald eyes briefly.  "Of course," he answered off-handedly, leaning back into the sofa.

With the way he had responded, and the chalant look he possessed by slouching so indifferently; Hermione thought he looked much like his father reincarnated.  From the pictures she saw, and leaving aside the fact that they were supposed to be like twins.

They sat together in silence until Ron came back in with two cups of water.  He easily saw and felt the tense silence, but chose to say nothing.

"So.  What now, Hermione?" he asked casually.  "No more going back to Draco?  We'll help you with her, if that's what you want.  Promise."

Hermione smiled thankfully at him, nodding.  "That's really kind of you, honestly it is, but I simply couldn't—"

Cutting her off, Ron insisted, "Right then.  So I'll baby-sit her whenever you like.  Whatever you need, I'll do."

"And I'm sure James would love to have a friend over," Harry offered up.  He gave a lopsided smile.  "I'm sure he'll love an older woman," he joked with a wink.

~*~

Draco was leaning against a tree not far from her house, debating going up to it and knocking, when he saw Weasel and Potter exiting.  They were laughing and smiling, waving to Hermione.

Ron made a promise to come, and Harry told her he'd bring James over on Saturday.  She looked happy, content.  Her life was back to perfection, and he hadn't even gotten the chance to try to make things right.

He had completely ruined his financial life by storming out of his house for her, and right now it seemed totally worthless.

Draco sniffed indignantly, and pulled his sunglasses down to shield his eyes.  He adjusted the black button-up shirt, and continued to lean against the tree for another good five minutes simply watching them bid each other good-bye.

Once he was sure they were gone, Draco strolled leisurely up to her welcoming house.  Standing almost _anxiously_ before the door, he tucked some stray hair behind his ear before ringing the doorbell nonchalantly.

Hermione had her hair down, and was laughing as she opened the door.  "What have you two forgotten _now_?" she giggled before actually _looking_ at him.

Her laughter faltered at the sight of him, dying down abruptly.  "Malfoy," she greeted in the form of an exhale.  "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry," Draco said immediately.  "I was out of line yesterday.  I was only caught off guard, which is no excuse, I know, but I was sincerely hoping…"

Hermione stared at him while he spoke, her expression unreadable.  A complete first.  She sighed softly, tossing a look back into her house.  "What makes you think that you could come here—dressed like you were straight out of _Cruel Intentions_, no less—and hope for anything?"

He looked down at his clothes, bewildered.  "It was never any sort of purposeful intention of mine!  Cruel, yes, but—"

"It's a movie," she cut in quietly, pursing her lips.  "Please leave."

He heard a voice exclaim, "Mommy!" from behind her, and surpressed a stupid grin from appearing.  Draco watched calmly as a little girl clutched Hermione's leg, with his infamous stony face.  His heart pounded madly at the sight of her, and gave Hermione a curious look.

It was startling to see the girl look like an almost exact female replica of himself, yet look and resemble Hermione so much at the same time.

She shot him a death glare warning him not to say a single word.  So he watched, feeling separated as Hermione bent down to pick the girl up.

"This is Carrie," she said, motioning to his child.  Hermione didn't look very happy about the introduction, and didn't bother to introduce him.

"Who's this, Mama?" Carrie asked with a smile.  "Did he bring presents?"

Draco actually laughed, falling silent upon the look on Hermione's face.

"Honey, this is…an old friend," she bit out.  He was sure she'd say a bill collector, or something equally absurd.

"Hi!" Carrie greeted, motioning to be put down.  Once down, she tugged on his black pants.  "Did you bring a present?"

Hermione pulled her gently back, looking almost sternly at their daughter.  "Carrie, that isn't polite!" she scolded.  "It's fine, we're going to the store soon."

Draco felt his heart restrict, and conjured up a tiny charm bracelet.  "As a matter of fact," he began with a cough, "I did, Carrie."

She squealed with delight, running back up to him.  He was dangling the silver bracelet before her, and she politely took it.

"What do we say?" Hermione prompted, looking angrily at him.

"Thank you!" Carrie exclaimed, running back inside.

Draco had a strained look on his face, and he could barely speak.  "I didn't do anything to it, you know?" he asked.

"I'm sure not," Hermione replied sarcastically.  "I really think you should go now.  You've seen her, so…"

She began to close the door, but Draco desperately grabbed her wrist.  "Please," he begged softly.  "Please, just…"

Her brown eyes were filled with hurt, and she shook her head, curls bouncing.  "I'm sorry," she insisted, closing the door finally.

~*~

"I need help," Draco pleaded.  "You're the last person I'd go to, trust me.  But I really need your help."

Kyle stared at him in disbelief.  "What makes you think I'd help you?"

"Look, I know you two are planning on…marrying…but I just.  At this point, I'd be happy just to get to spend time with Carrie."

"Where in the world did you get the idea—" Kyle began, confused.

"Thompson, _please_."

"Malfoy, we're _not_ getting married," Kyle finished, nearly laughing.  "I don't know where you conjured that one up, but we're just friends."

"What are you talking about?" Draco growled.  "Hermione said you were!"

"Why do you care, anyway?" Kyle asked, switching topics.  "You've spent this entire time insisting that she meant nothing to you, didn't you?"

"Yes, but—"

"So what you're telling me is the second a child pops into the situation, you've been madly, head-over-heels in love with her this entire time.  And it's been your intention the entire time to find her and passionately apologize to Hermione, asking for her hand in marriage because you simply _can't _live without her?" Kyle cut in, an amused smirk on his face.

Draco looked grumpily at him, and pulled down the sunglasses that had before been set on his hair.  Clearing his throat while at the same time looking decidedly important, he said, "Thompson, you've had _far_ too much time on your hands these past few years."

"So that's it, then?" Kyle asked, sounding like a wounded lover.  "You're going to leave, after spending the last twenty minutes begging and pleading for my help?"

"First off, I do not _beg_ nor do I _plead_ for anything.  And it's like you said—I've spent twenty minutes here, and all you've done is badger me about it.  All _I've_ tried to do is make things right."

"I can tell you right now, you're the only one who sees it that way.  You think Hermione's going to simply accept that you love her?  If you can't find the reason, how could you possibly find the means?

"What it sounds like to _me_ is that five years ago, you finally landed one of the most impossible lays of the world, only to have the glory interrupted by your father.  And in that moment of passion, you confused lust with love.  But never got the chance to correct that, because of…your father," Kyle said slowly, with what he clearly thought was perception.

This frustrated Draco, because he hated it when people pretended or thought they knew what he was all about.  _Abhorred_ it.

"For your information," he snapped, "I'm _not_ some hormonal teenager!  I am perfectly capable of determining lust from love; otherwise, I would have thousands of wives!  And certainly, if I loved her only because of sleeping with her, I would have hundreds _more_ wives.  Finally, I love her for who she is as a person—not what she's like in bed.  I've had five years to sit and think about it.  So trust me, it's been well thought about."

When Draco saw the grin on Kyle's face, he immediately knew he'd been tricked.  Stupid cunning, sly Slytherins.

"Well then.  I suppose you _are_ in need of some assistance, Malfoy."

~*~

Hermione was still stewing in her juices the next morning, infuriated that he thought simply because he was handsome and charming that she would immediately fall into his open arms the moment he apologized.  Who did he think she was?  Clearly he'd had the entirely wrong perception about her these past few years.  Because she wasn't some mindless drone, built to appease him.  No, not like every other girl out there.

She sighed, glad that Carrie wouldn't be up for another three hours, because she needed more time to think and fume about him.  The entire night hadn't been enough, apparently, and this made her even more furious that she couldn't stop thinking about him.  Hermione shook her head and growled, remembering the way he had been dressed yesterday.

"Bastard!" she snarled loudly, and turned around.  Kyle was standing right there, causing her to jump and shriek in surprise, throwing her coffee back.

"Mornings have never really been your thing, have they?" he grinned good-naturedly.  "As for muttering to yourself…well, that's not such a good sign, either."

"Kyle…how'd you get here?" she asked shakily, tightening her robe unconsciously.  "It's six in the morning.  What made you think I'd be awake?"

"That's the beautiful thing about magic, Hermione.  I apparated, of course.  And you're always up this early, purely out of habit," Kyle answered, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked nervously, playing with a stand of hair that had fallen from her sloppy bun.

Kyle took a step forward, being unusually intimidating today.  "Mione…_darling_…would you care to explain why our dearest Malfoy believed we were getting married?"

"I—_what_?"

"He came by yesterday with the most curious idea that our engagement wasn't just a farce.  Said you'd confirmed it.  You know how much I detest the man.  I don't like being bothered by him, and the living arrangement was only because you made me."

Hermione watched him pace away from her, an inquisitive look upon her face.  She briefly wondered if it were really Draco using a potion, but dismissed the idea of Kyle helping him out.

"I thought it'd make him go away.  And it did…mostly."

"You're a very stubborn person, Hermione," Kyle voiced from the couch, where he had somehow managed to sneak to without her noticing.

"I know," she granted, moving towards the chair opposite the sofa he occupied.  "I…I know I am."

"And as your friend, I must admit it's not a good quality.  Look at what it's keeping you from.  What it's _kept_ you from," he told her, staring directly into her eyes with his searching sapphire ones.

"What are you getting at?" Hermione asked quietly.

"I know people say there are other fish in the sea, but it seems slightly absurd to say if you don't know whether or not the bad fish is really the right fish."

"That makes absolutely no sense."

"How many men have you dated since Malfoy, Hermione?" he asked, plowing through.

"Well, none, but that was because of Carrie.  And not for lack of trying, either—"

"Trying how hard?  Have you ever wondered if maybe it was because your heart wouldn't let you date others?  Perhaps…perhaps you knew that you had already met the one?"

"Kyle, you're really confusing me!" she cried, feeling suddenly afraid.  She didn't like the things he was implying.

"All I'm saying is that despite how much I hate Malfoy for doing this to you, maybe…Well, I've heard the only one worth your tears is the one who wouldn't make you cry.  And you've been crying for the past five years, haven't you?"

"He isn't worth my tears!" Hermione insisted angrily, jumping up indignantly.  She was on the verge of making him leave.

"Then why cry, Hermione?  Why cry for so long for someone who wasn't worth your tears?" Kyle asked quietly.

She had her back turned to him at that point, and she looked up at the ceiling as if searching for strength to retaliate.

"Why don't you just butt out?" she demanded finally, whirling around to kick him out.  Of course, Kyle was already gone.

Damn him and his flair for dramatics.  Damn him for having the last word!

…Damn him for being right.

~*~

**A/N:** I am _so_ sorry for taking so long, I swear!  It's just…I got a new fic idea, and I got so caught up in it, that I ran out of ideas for this story.  But I've gotten so many ideas telling me to get my butt in gear, or officially say I've given up on this.

BUT!  I'm not.  I won't.  I've only got one more chapter left, I think, so it's been an awesome ride.  After this, I don't think I really anything more for this.  I'll just keep on.  Finish my other stories, write more and so on.

If you're interested, my new story is going to be Lily/James…yep.  If you like my style of writing with bicker and banter, etc. etc, that what they're portrayed as.  I see them as the Draco/Hermione of the past.  The '7os, whatever.  Hehehe.

Also, those of you who were curious, yes, Hidden Dragon had of course been finished.  But for whatever reason, they took a few chapters down.  The Author's Note, I understand, but the rest, I don't.  So, ok, whatever.  Ummm, they're going back up.  My chapters are totally harmless, and there's no explicit NC-17 sex.  Just hints and such.

So, yeah!  Thanks so much for being patient (though you had no choice), and please do review.  I'm a bit of an attention whore.  And hey, besides, I did come back to finish it.  My life has been a bit busy, because I've recently immersed myself into the wonderful world of extra-curriculars, and like I said—the L/J one.

Adios, and I love you all.  Happy Spring Break (to most).  And watch out, because in a fanfiction.net near you, I have a new fic planning on hitting.

_FINALLY, I'm thinking of creating an update LJ, so tell me what you think of that.  Then you can know, instead of guessing, what's going on._

[Submitted: April 4, 2004]


	11. Just Like Old Times

**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Just Like Old Times

* * *

**

"So you did it?" Draco asked eagerly. "You convinced her?"

Kyle glanced at the ground, relishing making him wait so anxiously. Deciding to answer slowly, he dragged the answer out. "Well…I think that maybe…"

"Spit it out!"

"She's got quite a bit of considering to do. You know, I always thought I should be on a debate team. I really know how to drive my point home."

Regaining his coolness now that he had the positive reply, Draco said uninterestedly, "That's fascinating. Well…thank you, Thompson."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I quite heard you correctly," Kyle replied with a grin, shaking his blonde hair.

"Don't push it."

---

_Don't turn your back on love._

What garbage. Who ever said that, and truly believed it? She wasn't even sure if what she felt was something that could be _qualified_ as love! Shouldn't she be able to pinpoint exactly what made her "love" him? And why in the _world_ would she?

Things were complicated enough, weren't they? How would Carrie understand that after five years of never knowing a father, her real one had suddenly just up and appeared, ready to love her?

_Children are resilient,_ she remembered Harry saying one day when they were talking about Carrie.

_But what about _me_?!_ Hermione protested internally.

"I'm not that strong," she said out loud. "I can't handle this. Years of hardening myself to him…just to be thrown away because Kyle thinks he's clever?"

She continued on, mentally wondering precisely how sane it was to rant to ones' self during a time of need, when there were others she could rant at.

"Kyle isn't clever, by any means. He's just been saying what I've been thinking all along. He's just been saying what I've been afraid to say. He better not think he used reverse psychology on me, or whatever other garbage he has up his sleeve."

She half expected it to be Kyle, or even Draco, standing in her kitchen when she heard the can drop. She wasn't expecting Ron.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," he tsked with a friendly smirk. "Didn't we teach you to ignore the voices in your head?"

Hermione shot him a glare, and immediately felt embarrassed that it was the second time in two days someone had walked in on her rants. "Yes, well, didn't I teach you how to properly act?"

"Only by example, Mione. Only by example," he retorted. "And if I were to lead by your example, I'd be doing this."

He paused to wander around her kitchen dazedly, bumping into counters, and staring at the ceiling. "I wonder what I should do…? He's not as clever as he likes to think…No, not nearly as clever as my handsome, charming friend Ron Weasley…"

She smacked the back of his head, turning rather red. "Oh, be quiet, Ronald."

"Uh oh, I know _that_ tone! That's the one you use when you want to be mad at me, but you know you have no reason to be, so it frustrates you," Ron teased. He mussed up his bright red hair a little, out of boredom. "So what's your malfunction today?"

"It's nothing," Hermione answered slowly, fiddling with her leather belt.

"Don't you think that five years of 'It's nothing' gets a little old?" he asked vaguely irately. "Five years of hiding things. Not to guilt you, or anything…" Ron trailed off flashing the faintest traces of a smile.

It was such a difficult thing to discuss with him. It was too hard to find words to express, and make him understand. She desperately hoped he'd figure it out.

"You can tell me when you're ready, I guess. Just don't let it be five years later, ok?" he asked laughing.

Feigning anger, she asked passionately, "How come _my_ mistakes are always up for joking about, _five years later_?"

"Because it's just way too fun reminding the poster girl for perfection about what she's done wrong," Ron answered.

Seeing the look on her face, which she had tried to hide, he immediately apologized.

---

Draco wasn't entirely sure what to do. Now that everything had been cleared up, and both he and Hermione had been tricked into fully realizing what they felt, he wasn't sure who should or _would_ make the first move.

He didn't expect that Hermione would race to him, in tears once more, insisting she was terribly wrong. Because there were a few things stopping that wistful fantasy.

One, it wasn't her in the wrong—it was him. Two, she'd done enough crying in the past for a lifetime. And three, there was her pride to consider.

He wasn't going to let a little thing like pride get in the way of happiness.

After much consideration, Draco made the not-so-difficult decision of going to her tomorrow. There always needed to be an open space of one day of procrastination.

He sighed heavily and fell onto his bed. It was a good thing Kyle had given him his room back.

---

"You," she breathed at the sight of him. She looked away from the onions she was preparing to cut, and tightly gripped the knife.

"Disappointed much?" he asked breezily, surprised at how his smugness returned once he was sure of himself again. His eyes briefly flickered to the weapon in her right hand.

Hermione looked confused, angry, and hurt all at once. "What are you doing here?" she demanded harshly.

"I've come to apologize. Again. Look, Hermione, I know… I know I haven't done much to deserve you, but you've messed up too," Draco insisted.

"Not exactly the best way to apologize, Malfoy," Hermione informed him dryly.

"When are you going to face your mistakes?" he asked, annoyed. "I've busted my ba-_arse_ to get you to understand me and forgive me, and all you can do is shovel the blame on me!"

"Don't you dare yell at me!" Hermione shrieked, shaken. "You h-have no _right_—"

"Oh, spare me the sob story, Hermione! I've heard it before!" Draco yelled back, the anger within him now sparked. "You know, you'd think with the way that you act and treat me, that you _want_ to be alone for the rest of your life."

She let out a small gasp at the words, and turned back to the counter and away from him. She began chopping the onions to distract herself.

"You love me, Hermione," he said softly, grabbing a hold of his control. "You know it; _I _know it."

Hermione refused to respond to his words. So Draco took a step toward her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. She still did nothing, and he turned her around to face him.

Tears were streaming down her face, and at the sight of his concerned expression, the knife fell from her hand.

"You're crying," he observed with a quirk of his mouth.

Hermione quickly wiped the tears away with her sleeve. "I'm cutting onions, you idiot," she hissed.

"You've only cut one," Draco reminded her.

"I'll never be alone," she said finally. "Harry and Ron will always be there for me."

He groaned. Why did it always have to come back to the loser twins? She was taking a stab at him, trying to hurt his pride.

Angry again, Draco took a step back. "You tell yourself that when you're lying awake at night, cold and alone. _Who will be there for you then_?"

Hermione's eyes widened momentarily in shock. "I have Carrie."

He glared at her, infuriated that she had implied that their daughter was hers, and hers only. So what if she had many people there waiting to comfort her? It would never be the same as having the only person whom could comfort her in heart, mind, body, and soul.

Adjusting his black robes, he cast her a meaningful look laced with regret, hurt, and temptation. With a hand on the door he asked, "You're honestly going to let me walk out this door without one last regret?"

By the time he had asked the question, she had already hardened herself to him. As an answer, she simply watched with pursed lips as he turned the doorknob slowly.

"This is goodbye then," Draco said, his now dark gray eyes flashing. He slammed the door shut, letting it echo hollowly in her heart.

---

Kyle walked into Draco's room, a smile plastered onto his face.

"So, how'd it go?" he asked cheerily, glancing around for the man. "Are you all packed up and ready to move into her house?"

Draco emerged from the closet with shirts draped over his arm, mustering up his best glare.

"What? What happened?" Kyle asked with concern.

Draco shoved the shirts into his enormous green suitcase, settling them in with a punch. "It's over," he growled. "I'm packing up so I can move _far_ away from this hellhole. Granger's made her choice."

_It's amazing how quickly it comes back to "Granger", _Kyle thought wryly.

"Where do you intend to stay?"

"Well," Draco began sarcastically, "I can't go back 'home'—if you could even call it that—because I've severed ties with my _Father_ all because of _her_. And by '_far_ away' I mean a completely different continent."

"What?!" Kyle exclaimed. "Y-You can't do that! Hermione, she's a stubborn girl. But she'll come around…"

"You wanted to keep me as far from her as possible before, but that changed rather suddenly," Draco accused. "I don't care how much you want her to be happy, I'm tired of bending over backwards for her. I'm not a damn gymnast."

Kyle ran a hand through his blond hair, trying quickly to think of a way to keep him there. At least until he could get through to Hermione.

"Isn't this just a bit _rash_?" he asked desperately.

Draco waved his wand lazily, causing all of his belongings to fly neatly into place in the suitcase. "No," he drawled, "it's not. I'm not just going to sit around forever, twiddling my thumbs while she blatantly ignores me."

"Just let me talk to her again!" Kyle yelled, frustrated that after everything, the two hadn't fell into each other's arms.

"Yes, because we all see how well that worked yesterday. That was _quite_ the success."

Kyle finally let his anger speak for him. "It's not as though we should expect anything different from you," he said loftily.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco growled.

"Only that when things get tough, you run away from your problems rather than dealing with it. Doesn't that ever get old? I mean, you ran from Hermione at school, you ran from your father a few months ago, you ran from 'Hope' when she tried to help you, and now you're running from Hermione all over again."

Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously. "If you think your stupid reverse psychology is going to work on me again, you're very wrong, Thompson. I'm leaving because I'm tired of Granger's ridiculous mind games."

To accentuate his words, he closed his suitcase, locked it, and picked it up. Without another word, he shoved past Kyle and walked out the door.

---

Hope tentatively opened the door, revealing an anxious and upset Hermione. She glanced worriedly at her 'friend-by-marriage' as it had been termed.

"Hermione, darling, are you alright?" she asked softly, reaching her delicate hand out. "Would you like me to go fetch Harry?"

Hermione hadn't met her gaze until that moment, with her honey eyes wide. She shook her head furiously insisting, "Oh, no. I came to ask for some advice; witch to witch."

Hope tilted her head, her honey-colored hair spilling past her shoulder. "Of course," the woman agreed. Her nearly violet eyes sparkled with concern as she led the distressed Hermione to the sofa.

"So what's wrong?" Hope asked after finally getting settled. She turned to face Hermione, and placed her hands in her lap, waiting for the response. "Don't tell me Harry's been giving you trouble again, or I swear—" she started angrily.

"No, no," Hermione interrupted immediately. "Not him. No one's caused trouble, really. Well, no one besides me, anyway."

Hope's expression softened at the confession, and she gently asked, "Did it have to do with a certain Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione nodded slowly. With a derisive laugh she inquired, "When is it _ever_ not about him lately?"

Harry's wife was worried by his best friend's scornful tone.

"So tell me exactly what happened," Hope suggested.

---

Hermione paused for a moment, giving herself the opportunity to really admire Harry's bride.

Her almond-shaped violet eyes set against gorgeously tanned skin gave her an exotic look. Her hair was absolute perfection; which was nothing short of _annoying_. The waves of Hope's honey hair were always perfect and never failed to keep a soft, shiny appearance.

She could see clearly now why Harry chose her. She was beautiful, and she had a lovely personality that could get on with just about anyone.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Hermione finally began her story.

"Why _is _it that I can't let people close to me anymore?" she demanded. "I turned him away! He apologized for everything; he offered me the _world_ with just one glance! But do you know what I did? I turned him away," Hermione said bitterly. "Smartest girl in Hogwarts, indeed!"

Hope blinked, momentarily unsure of what to say. "Hermione," she began, clearing her throat, "the best advice I can offer you is blunt and harsh."

Hermione urged her forward, not heeding the warning.

"Get over it."

She was stunned by how acute and to the point it was. She was stunned by the brilliance hidden in the simplicity.

"I-" Hermione started. "Erm, goodbye!" she shouted, leaping to her feet and rushing out the door. Suddenly it was all too clear what she had to do to fix this mess.

---

"Kyle, where's Draco?" Hermione asked breathlessly once he'd opened the door. "I _need_ to talk to him, it's urgent!"

Kyle shifted uncomfortably, suddenly interested in the tiles of his home. Clearing his throat he admitted, "He left," rather sheepishly.

"H-he left?" Hermione repeated in an astonished stutter. "Where did he go?"

"Well, in his ever-so informative rant, he mentioned something about another continent," Kyle offered dryly.

_That is _so_ not helpful,_ Hermione thought unhappily.

Grabbing his sleeve she ordered, "You're helping me."

---

Three hours later, Draco Malfoy dropped his suitcase in front of the entrance to The Leaky Cauldron. He had run out of options, and couldn't think of where to go. Until he could get certain details ironed out, he'd have to live here for a week, and then he'd be off like nobody's business.

He entered The Leaky Cauldron, eager for a place to stay. "I'll take Room 13," he said importantly. "I expect I'll be here for seven days."

Without letting the owner get in a word, he dropped the fee onto the bar, and took the keys with the _Accio_ spell.

He climbed the stairs, and opened the door to his new room for the next week. Draco glanced around, observing the lowly status of the room. It was less-than homely, and it was certainly not 'quaint'.

He wandered around the room, wondering where to start planning for his escape when the door flung open.

---

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Hermione breathed, drinking in his beauty. "You didn't really pick an original location," she said with a laugh.

"What, expect something more expensive for me?" Draco asked coolly. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, but you don't know me."

She walked towards him, not allowing his harsh words to hurt her like he wanted.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you I _want _to know you."

His cool gray eyes looked up to meet hers. With a quirk of his mouth, he growled, "Then come here."

Quicker than she could process, Draco had pulled her into another searing kiss. This one was fueled with anger, regret, relief, passion, and numerous other ridiculous emotions that add up to an incredible kiss.

"Forgive me?" Hermione whispered softly against his lips.

He rested his forehead against hers and smiled genuinely at her. "It's good to see you finally figured out who's been right this entire time. Honestly woman, when will you learn? I'm _always _right," Draco teased in his snotty voice.

Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms, stepping immediately away from him. "You and that cocky attitude of yours is _always _going to get you in trouble."

His arm snaked out and grabbed her retreating wrist. He pulled her back and said with a sneer, "It's just like old times, isn't it?"

She laughed at him as he shoved her against a wall, this time careful not to harm her.

* * *

**A/N:** Well… that's that, folks. T.T Sad, isn't it?? The journey is over! -wails-

Still, I hope everyone enjoyed the ride. It's been really fun. I don't really know what to say, haha. Mildly awkward… -clears throat- I hope the ending fit well and all! All things considered.

If you run out of things to do, and are now bored to tears (see T.T), you can feel free to theorize about what happened to Carrie. She just never really seemed to fit in, I'm sorry.

Or you can read some of my other stuff. I updated my Lily/James fic. It's going splendidly, thank you! Converting some of you would be fun, so go check it out! They're just like Draco/Hermione for me, hehe.

Sadly, I don't think I will be doing anything more to this series. I started writing the Kyle/Hermione thing a year earlier, but it's not necessary. As for the Carrie future fic (paired with James), well… I think some things are best left as is. So remember me; and my second-ever completed fic!

Read, review, and **_ENJOY_**, _please_. :D

BY THE WAY::::: I made the update journal! So go check it out at http: www. Greatest journal. com/ users/ musikluver/ without all the spaces, anyway. I think you'd enjoy the look of it. I designed it myself! Hehe.

[Submitted: July 6, 2004]


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